


Sonder

by Grandmungus



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alcohol, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Friendship, Gay solidarity, Getting Together, M/M, college parties and drinking that's associated with them, ollie and wicky are the main characters, the team being friends and having a nice time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23903257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grandmungus/pseuds/Grandmungus
Summary: n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.Ollie and Wicky's time at Samwell is more than just Fist Bumping in the background of panels.
Relationships: Ollie O'Meara/Pacer Wicks, Ollie/Wicky & Bitty friendship
Comments: 42
Kudos: 83





	1. Year 1 - Fall Semester

Wicky lets out a breath, brushing his hands on his pants, taking a moment to admire his handiwork. He was finally done, the finishing touches on his side of his official college dorm room were all in place.

“Not too shabby, ALMOST as good as home.”

He smiles at the thought, stretching a bit in preparation to flop onto his freshly made bed for a well deserved nap. Well, that WAS his plan, if there hadn’t been a knock on the door.

“That’s weird, I didn’t lock the door, and definitely not expecting any visitors.” He thought out loud, turning away from his bed to face the door.

“Hey Bro, is that you in there?” A male voice called out from the hallway, “Think you can give me a hand?”

The voice clicks in Wicky’s head, instantly recognizable, and Wicky darts over to the door faster than his mouth can form a proper reply. He throws the door open, expression changing to puzzled as his is greeted by a stack of floating boxes.

“Ha, thought I heard you in there!” The voice continues, “Grab a few of these for me?”

Wicky is quick to oblige, scooping a pair of boxes from the man in the hallway, finally being greeted by the sleepy-eyed smile of his best friend, Ollie O’meara. Wicky can’t help but beam, and he steps into the room. He watches Ollie drop the boxes onto the bare mattress on the other side of the dorm room, following suit. Once they were both empty handed, Wicky pulls the other man into what he assumes is the tightest, most affectionate bro-hug that any man, human or bear had ever mustered. 

“Dude, I can’t believe you’re finally here! It’s so fucking good to see you!” Wicky can’t help but shout, sure that his voice is just a bit louder than it needed to be.

Ollie is quick to return the hug, happy to take in the man in front of him. “Oh c’mon, it’s only been, what, four or five years?”

“Years, weeks, days, who cares? It’s all way too long to be separated from my best bro!”

Ollie lets out a chuckle, short and maybe just a little sad. He pulls himself from the hug, turning his attention to the assorted boxes spread out on his bed, “It’s not MY fault someone’s dad moved him and his family away at the end of middle school.”

WIcky pouts, plopping his ass onto Ollie’s bed and watching absently as the other man opens a box to rummage through its contents. “Bro, gimme a break, you and I BOTH know I put up the king of all bitch fits the entire trip to the new house.”

“I know, bro, I know, but high school wasn’t the same without you there in person.”

“Tell me about it! We didn’t even get a chance to form the hockey dream team we had always talked about.”

Ollie smiles, pulling a hat out of the box he was unpacking, one of the many he had brought along, “Well then, do I have great news for you, because the universe has brought the dream team back together.” Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Wicky raise a fist. Ollie tosses the hat onto the bed and returns the fist bump. Funny how the smallest gesture could make his heart skip a beat.

“Speaking of the dream team,” Wicky sits back, leaning against the wall Ollie’s bed is placed against, “Practice starts soon, huh?”

“Mhm,” Ollie nods as he folds up a now empty box, “But we do have the rest of the day before we have to report to bootcamp. Gives us time to hang out.”

“In that case, you want some help unpacking? We can get done sooner together.” WIcky asks, grabbing a box and pulling it into his lap, he already knows the answer he’s about to get.

“Sure, bro. Actually, the box you just grabbed has, like, sheets and shit in it. Make the bed while unpack clothes?”

Wicky nods in agreement, and stands once Ollie has cleared the offending boxes off the bed. He cracks one open and takes stock of the content, shuffling fabric around until he is able to produce a fitted sheet. He unfolds it and stops immediately, eyes darting across the room to Ollie. “Wait, bro, your mom still has these sheets?”

Ollie glances over from the dresser he is busy unpacking into, looking the sheet over before snorting, “Of course, dude. My Grandma gave her those sheets as a gift AGES ago. She wasn’t too keen on me raiding the closet, maybe she stuck those in the pile as payback.”

Wicky chuckles, spreading the aforementioned bedsheet out and tucking it under the corners of the mattress. From what Wicky could remember about Ollie’s Grandma, from visiting her house a couple times when they were younger, she had “questionable” taste, at best. He wouldn’t describe as typical old lady frills and floral, but it wasn’t anything Wicky assumed you’d see on an HGTV design show….not that he WATCHED those shows. Okay, maybe he browsed on occasion. 

A bit of time passes, Ollie in his unpacking groove while Wicky finishes making his friend’s bed before migrating to his own to scroll Twitter. Ollie makes it through two boxes, and is halfway through a third when he pulls out a shirt, and stops dead in his tracks as he unfolds it. “Dude, Wicks, check it out.”

Ollie waits until his friend has sat up before turning the shirt to him. The way Wicky’s face lights up, Ollie can’t help but crack a smile as well, “Remember this old thing, man?”

Upon closer inspection, Wicky recognizes the shirt as the one he gave Ollie for his birthday the year before he and his family moved away. The shirt was blue, faded to almost a slate grey at this point, with the ghost of a logo on the front, barely recognizable at this point, and was stretched with age. “Dude, you kept that old thing? I wasn’t even sure you liked it when I gave it to you. I mean, really, what do middle schoolers know about buying meaningful gifts?”

Ollie makes a gesture that Wicky can only sum up as ‘that gif of the blond guy blinking and shaking his head’, and seems offended Wicky would suggest such a thing, “Kept it? Dude, I wear it all the time. How do you think it stretched to the point of fitting four years later?”

Wicky pauses, trying and failing to think of a proper reply to sum up how touched he is by the gesture. He watches as Ollie folds the shirt and carefully puts it into the top drawer of the dresser.  
Ollie cracks his knuckles and folds up the now empty boxes before tossing them into the room’s shared closet and sitting on the end of Wicky’s bed. He opens his mouth to say something, but his stomach growls, interrupting him.

“Hungry, dude?” Wicky raises an eyebrow, grabbing his phone to check the time. He’d been here since fairly in the morning, thanks to an early morning flight he’s sure Satan himself must have scheduled, but taking most of the day to get settled and hang around while Ollie unpacked, the current time 2:30pm, seemed about right.

“Starving, man. Think they’ve got the cafeteria up and running?”

“Uh, hard pass, we’ve got all semester to eat questionable school cafeteria food. Besides, we haven’t been together in years! Let’s go find a nice diner in town or something.” 

“Sounds like a plan, bro.” Ollie nodded, adjusting his hat, “You lead the way?”

If you ask Ollie what he thought the first week of preseason would be like, he would say he wished he could describe it to you as more than ‘Boy, did THAT happen’. They were dragged to the Haus, dragged THROUGH the Haus and were introduced to the final member of their freshman trio, Eric Bittle, and while his size did not inspire confidence, his pies sure did. They’re also reacquainted with Ransom and Holster, who Ollie would later insist were separated at birth, or the result of a failed cloning experiment...or something, anything, to explain why they’re like “that”. There’s Shitty, the 2013 winner of the “Most Unfortunate Hockey Nickname” award. Wicky jokes they should get him a plaque, but neither wants to actually ORDER a plaque with the word ‘Shitty’ engraved on it, so the idea gets dropped quicker than it was brought up. There are a couple other assorted bros they meet along the way, but nobody stands out. 

That holds true for a day, until the first practice, when they meet Jack fucking Zimmermann. The name carried a weight with it, like the weight of a great poet, a great musician, or RuPaul fucking Charles. Having a Zimmermann as your Freshman hockey captain was both a reassuring and VERY terrifying thing to keep in the back of your mind. No pressure, right?

Aside from the start of practice, and the start of class, there are carefully dropped mentions of the ever present and looming ‘Haze a Palooza’. Big shocker that The Shitmeister himself coined that term. Naturally, aside from the occasional name drop, details around the infamous Palooza are top secret, and every upperclassman Ollie and Wicky cross paths with go tight-lipped as soon as they see the pair. 

It goes without saying, then, when Ollie comes to, disoriented and stripped to his underwear, hands bound and surrounded by the older members of the team, he assumes he was about to find out what the big deal was. He looks around, making note of Bitty, as he insists on being called, to his left, as well as two guys he doesn’t remember actually SEEING at practice, and finally on Wicky, in the same state of confusion and undress on right next to him on his right side. The sudden and very much welcome rush of heat to his body went through him, and he shivers, and he’s thankful he can blame the newly forming flush on his cheeks on the cheap beer he was forced to chug. The next two or three did not help, and Ollie soon finds himself leaning on Wicky for support. 

Ollie comes to the next morning, still in his underwear but thankfully in an old t-shirt as well. He’s confused, the room is fuzzy, the soreness in his back tells him he’d slept sitting up all night, and his mouth tastes like Natty Light and death. A quick scan of the room, and a moment's pause to get his head to stop spinning, and he recognizes it as the living room of the Haus. The body next to him stirs, and Ollie glances over to see a sleeping Wicky curled into his side, wearing a Samwell sweatshirt Ollie can only assume someone threw on him between the initiation last night and now. He mentally makes a note to make sure he and Wicky never speak of it again, though, if he’s being honest, he can’t really remember WHAT happened after they were dragged from Faber. They were probably brought here, and then blankety blank. 

Wicky exhales softly, stirring a bit. “Dude, I feel like I got hit by a truck last night.” He manages, voice still croaky from sleep. 

“Y’know, I don’t really...remember last night, but I’m gonna rule that out.” Ollie says, clearing his throat as he speaks.

“Least they didn’t dump us outside somewhere.”

Ollie chuckles, stretching his shoulders until he hears the pop he was looking for. In that instant, he sniffs the air, which is a weird and usually unencouraged thing to do in a frat house, but is welcomed with something that smells...good? No, it smells great. He can tell Wicky’s read his mind, the pair is up and in the doorway to the kitchen, almost as if by instinct.

“Morning, y’all, sure was something last night, huh?” Bitty turns and smiles, looking way to put together for someone who endured the same drunken hazing as they had last night. He even...showered? Brushed his teeth? In a frat house? 

“Is that-” Ollie began.

“Breakfast?” Wicky practically whimpered.

“Yes, of course it is.” Bitty placed two plates on the table, gesturing for the pair. “Most of the others are still asleep, so you didn’t miss out on anything.”

Bitty didn’t have to twist any arms, Ollie and Wicky were at the table almost the instant the plates were set down. 

The overwhelming vibration of shitty dance music pierced the otherwise quiet air on this early fall night at Samwell University. The team had finished their first game, and damn it, they were gonna celebrate! 

The minute they cross the threshold into the Haus’ living room, Shitty is there, noticeably less dressed than he was about 30 minutes ago, to greet them and press a six pack of beer into Ollie’s arms. He shoos them deeper into the living room, his mission to greet every partygoer personally clear in his eyes.

Now, Ollie and Wicky were privy to the Kegsters that Shitty and the team were prone to throwing to celebrate, well, just about anything, and there’s no way they were going to miss the first one of the season. Ollie grabs a beer for himself, tosses one to Wicky and sets the others down, sure they’d be consumed by someone at some point. 

About three or four drinks in, the music dips in volume enough so Shitty’s voice can fill the room over a megaphone, because OF COURSE Shitty has a megaphone with him. He had dragged a keg into the center of the room, and Ransom and Holster had grabbed Bitty. Shitty was mentioning bylaws, and Frogs, Ollie isn’t exactly paying attention, though, because Wicky grabbed him by the shirt and tugged him aside so they could drunkenly sway to the music together.

“Dude, this college shit is ‘swawesome.” Ollie slurs a bit, placing a hand on Wicky’s shoulder, both for support and to bring the other man closer. 

“F’k yeah,” Wicky slips a hand into Ollie’s pocket, ensuring there is no room left for anyone to separate the pair, “Think they’ll let me at the next kegstand?”

Ollie huffs a breath into Wicky’s neck, pressing against him. “Fuck that, that’d mean letting you go and I’m not interested in that.”

Wicky smirks, grabbing a bottle of cheap booze that had been placed on the table near them at some point before pulling away from Ollie, despite the other man’s protests. “C’mon, Ol, let’s find somewhere less crowded.”

Ollie allows Wicky to pull him out of the living room and out the front door onto the porch. The fresh air hits them like a much welcome smack in the face, suddenly free of the sweat and booze that clung to the air inside the Haus. The music is still loud enough to reverberate in their skulls, and, while less crowded, there were still bodies everywhere in various states of intoxication. A drunk bro slides off a bench, giving Ollie and Wicky a spot to sit, careful not to step on him in the process.

Wicky sits, pulling Ollie with him so they’re both sitting close, pressed into each other and taking turns taking swigs from the bottle he grabbed. 

“Hey, Pace.” Ollie says softly, so softly he’s not sure he’s said it out loud. “I missed you, man.”

Wicky can feel his cheeks heat up, and he turns to face Ollie, “Bro, I missed you t-”

The air practically grows silent as Ollie leans in and kisses his best friend. It feels weird, tense and maybe a little nauseating, though, he blamed that on the booze. He’s not sure what he’s hoping for, but it definitely isn’t Wicky shrinking into himself and pushing away.

“Bro, wait, this isn’t- this doesn’t.” Wicky tries to form words. 

“Dude, sorry, I just thought we-” Ollie frowns as Wicky jolts up off the bench, knocking the bottle they had been sharing onto the drunk guy on the ground. Ollie stands up, as well, but Wicky has already started heading to the stairs. “Wicks, wait, where are you-”

“I just, I’m sorry.” Wicky stammers, practically stumbling down the stairs to the Haus. 

Ollie’s first instinct is to follow, to give chase after his best friend and make sure he can undo whatever he may have just caused. He runs to the stairs, tripping and falling face first into the railing around the side of the porch. He stays there for a bit, a defeated noise escaping his mouth. His head throbs, and he closes his eyes, just for a second. The music has gotten softer, meaning the party is probably dying down. Someone grabs him by the shoulder and lifts him up gently. He doesn’t fight it, his eyes stay closed and he slumps against the mystery person.

Ollie wakes up, coughing. He takes a few breaths, shaky and definitely hungover. Light spills in through the cracks in the blinds of the living room of the Haus, which have thankfully been drawn shut. He has GOT to stop waking up confused and hungover on the floor of this place. He rubs his eyes before standing up, head pounding. 

“Hey man,” Shitty is in the door to the living room, a bottle of aspirin in one hand and a glass of water in the other, “Nice to see you finally up. How’s your head?”

“Well, I’ve never had any complaints.” Ollie says absently, brain on autopilot as he accepts the water for Shitty. He downs the glass of water with a couple pills as Shitty nearly chokes laughing at the joke he hadn’t actually meant to make.

“You have a rough night, dude? Normally when guys pass out they choose somewhere a bit softer, more forgiving.”

“No, actually I’m upset I didn’t hit it a bit harder, knock out a few teeth to give me that brutish hockey look I’ve been going for.”

“Oh jeez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the frat house floor this morning. I’m just fucking with you, man.”

“I know, I just.” Ollie sighs, the events of last night replaying in his mind. “Hey, you haven’t seen Wicks this morning, have you?”

“Your other half?” Shitty’s eyebrows raise “Aren’t you two usually...together?”

Ollie pinches the bridge of his nose. “You could just say ‘no’, don’t patronize me, dude.” 

“Okay, sorry. I haven’t seen him since you two were together earlier last night. Why, something up?”

“N-no,” Ollie hesitates, willing his eyes to keep from darting around. Last thing he wanted was for any of the team to know that something was, in fact, up, “Just lost track of him last night, wanted to make sure he was good.”

“So shoot him a text, he’s one of us, man, I’m sure dude’s fine. Bitty’s making pancakes for breakfast, and you know how much Rans and Holster love those things.”

Ollie pulls his phone out as Shitty slips back into the hallway. No messages. He types a quick message to Wicky, asking him to reply just to make sure he’s okay. He’s not really hungry, but he wants to keep face, make sure none of the guys start asking questions. He heads to the kitchen, sits between Holster and Jack, and offers Bitty a forced smile when he places a plate of pancakes in front of them.

Breakfast goes by without incident, and Ollie hangs back to help Bitty clean up. He focuses every ounce of energy he has into making sure the dishes are as dry and spotless as possible, and for a few minutes, it’s the only thing that’s on his mind. 

“Hey Ollie-” He hears Bitty call him, and the plate he’s drying slips from his hand and clanks to the ground. Thank God they had agreed on plastic dishes and not something that could shatter. 

“Haha, whoops.” Ollie wheezes, scrambling to pick up the plate before looking over to Bitty, breath held nervously.

“Everything alright? I’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes and all you’ve replied with is ‘wow, that’s crazy’.” 

“F-fine, guess I just spaced out? Maybe I’m just, still a little dizzy from the gross misuse of alcohol last night.” 

Bitty frowns at the other man, unconvinced but not willing to press the matter. “Well, looks like everything is cleaned up. Maybe you should go lie down.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” Ollie nods, handing placing the plate in his hand back into the cabinet.

He slips out of the kitchen and out the front door, there’s no time to bump into one of his teammates. Checks his phone, hoping, praying.

Nothing, not even a read notification on the text he sent earlier.

“Fuck, dude, where are you.”

He pulls up Wicky’s contact info in his phone, mashes call button so hard he thinks he might break his screen. He bites his lip, the phone rings. It rings...rings...rings…

Voicemail

Ollie doesn’t leave a voicemail. He nearly throws his phone to the ground in frustration, but resists the urge, slipping the phone into his pocket before breaking into a full sprint for the dorms. 

He nearly drops his keys fumbling with the lock to his and Wicky’s room. The door flies open, and Ollie’s heart drops when he sees it dark and empty. He nearly collapses onto his bed, checking his phone again. Still nothing. He types out another quick message, locks his phone and closes his eyes.

The sound of the door creaking open stirs Ollie from his sleep. He sits up, groggy, rubbing his eyes. He watches Wicky shut the door, let out a sigh, and walk to his side of the room, straight to his bed. 

“Hey, Pace, I-”

“Save it, man. It’s late and we have practice early tomorrow.”

The first day goes by painfully. Ollie tries to act as if nothing is wrong, making the same jokes and gestures he would if it were any other morning getting up at ass-crack o’clock for practice. Wicky manages a halfhearted chuckle or two, and practice itself is business as usual. After practice, the team goes to Jerry’s for food, and both Ollie and Wicky are physically relieved that they have some other people around as a buffer. 

The next few days go the same way, Ollie and Wicky sitting on opposite sides of the room for classes they share, interacting the bare minimum during practice, and spending as little room together or in their dorm as possible, essentially using it just to sleep and get changed. Ollie isn’t sure where Wicky heads to, he wants to ask, he wants to follow him, to beg for them to just talk, but EVERY time, the words die before they can get from his brain to his mouth. Instead, he turns and heads to the library. 

There’s a noticeable tension in the locker room after the game come the weekend. They lose 1-3, and Wicky gets checked so hard he nearly goes through the glass toward the end of the game. He frowns as he starts to get undressed, his shoulder is burning and he knows it’s gonna be bruised in the morning. He instinctively glances over to Ollie, he looks over briefly enough to hide a grimace with a forced reassuring style. 

“Hey Wicks,” Jack calls over to him, and Wicky stiffens, drawing in a breath. “Can I talk to you when you’re done changing?”

Ollie hangs outside of Faber, he knows whatever is going on in there can’t be a pleasant experience.

“Hey.” He hears Wicky offer as he walks outside. “What’re you standing around for?”

“I-” Ollie hesitates. Why? This is his bro, his best friend. “Waiting for you, man. Wanted to make sure you were good.”

“‘M fine. Zimmermann chewed me out for doing shitty tonight, that’s what he’s s’posed to do.” 

Ollie can see the slump in Wicky’s shoulders. He takes a step closer to him, reaching out to place a hand on his back. He feels Wicky tense at his touch, letting out a shaky breath and shrugging Ollie’s hand away. “Pace, c’mon, talk to me. This last week has been killing me, you’re my best friend.”

Wicky bites his lip, hating how Ollie’s words resonate with him so well. “Let’s, let’s go talk in the room, okay?”

Ollie sits nervously on his bed, watching as Wicky pulls two beers from the mini fridge in between their beds before sitting next to him. He offers one to Ollie, who accepts and cracks the can open, taking a healthy swig.  
“So, uh,” Wicky sounds as nervous as he is, “That was a rough game, huh.”

“I’ll say.” Ollie nods. “Your shoulder okay? You got hit hard, dude.”

“Fine, sore. I’ll pop some Advil and sleep it off. May be some bruising but, hey, we’re hockey players, what can you do?”

“Yeah…” Ollie trails off. Fuck, there go all the words, again. “Look, Wicky, what happened last weekend...at the kegster.”

“Ollie, we were both so drunk, I’m not even sure how I got back to the dorm that night. It’s,” Wicky stops, trying to choose his words carefully, “We can pretend it didn’t happen, y’know?”

“Pace,do you want to pretend it didn’t happen, because I sure as fuck don’t. Alcohol or not, I did that because I wanted to. I thought we were on the same page that night, if I known otherwise I would have-”

“Ollie, I didn’t say I didn’t want it to happen, man. It just happened out of nowhere, and we were both SO drunk, and-” 

“Do you like me?”

“What?”

“Do you like me, Wicky? Because I’m crazy about you.” 

There’s a pause as Ollie downs the rest of his beer and crushes the can in his hand. Wicky looks down at his can, completely full and forgotten until this point. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” Wicky repeats, “So much that I didn’t want us to hook up as a drunken mistake, y’know? N-not that us hooking up would be a mistake! I just, oh man I feel like a fucking middle schooler, yes Ollie, I do like you, a lot.”

“Then why did you-”

“Because, man, I want to be with you. I don’t wanna have a drunken fling at a frat party.”

Ollie exhales thoughtfully, scooting closer and putting an arm around Wicky’s waist. The other man relaxes into his side, resting his head on Ollie’s shoulder. “I-I’m sorry, bro.”

“Don’t be. A-are you mad at me?”  
“Dude, until right now I was mad at myself for possibly ruining the best relationship I ever had. I could never be mad at you, man.” 

“Do you-do you maybe wanna go to the movies tomorrow?”

“It’s a date.”

“FUCK YOU, YALE!” The words rip out of Ollie’s mouth with more vinegar than he was aware he could muster. Bitty had just scored the winning goal, and the crowd went wild in reply. Ransom and Holster lift Bitty in the air Lion King style, displaying him to the stadium as the cheers get louder. 

Ollie turns to chest bump Shitty before the latter joins in celebrating Bitty’s goal. Wicky skates over, grabbing Ollie and pulling them into a hug. They stay like that for a minute, before Holster grabs them both and pulls them into the group pile toward the edge of the rink.

Wicky pulls Ollie back as the rest of the team slowly disperses and makes their way into the locker room. “Good work out there.”

Ollie smiles, making sure none of the team is around before leaning in and stealing a kiss from Wicky. It’s not that they don’t WANT the team to know they’re together, but, man, they do not need to contribute to the Fine Jar sitting on top of the fridge in the Haus.

“Ol, they’re gonna catch on if we don’t get in there.” Wicky says as he pulls away, just barely, reluctant to let his boyfriend go.  
“It’s fine, we can sneak out after the second or third round of margaritas, they won’t notice a thing.” 

Wicky chuckles, kissing Ollie once more before pulling him off the ice to join the rest of the team.


	2. Year 1 - Spring Semester

“Hey Babe, I’ve got the best fucking idea.”

It’s fairly early into the spring semester, a day where Samwell is hit with so much snow that, even by New England standards, things came grinding to a halt. Ollie sits cross-legged on his bed with Wicky’s head in his lap, Wicky’s legs kicking over the side of the bed. Ollie places his phone on Wicky’s stomach and looks down to look the other man in the eyes.

“Let’s push the beds together!” Wicky looks up at him and grins.

“We’ve been getting by just fine with one small ass bed.” Ollie teases, smirking as Wicky’s face tints pink.

“That’s not what I meant, dick. Besides, even if it’s true, trying to sleep tangled up in one bed is shitty. My back STILL hurts from the last time we tried it.”

“I did find you sleeping on the floor NEXT to the bed that morning.” Ollie nods. Before he gets another chance to protest, Wicky is across the room, dragging his bed into the center of the room. Ollie sighs, taking the time to stand and stretch before doing the same. 

They drag until they bump into each other. There’s still some space, and one glaring obstacle in their plan.

“Pace, where does the mini fridge go?”

“Huh?” Wicky spins, turning to face the offending appliance. “Well, obviously on my side. I brought the fridge.”

“Bro, I’m the one who shells out the money for the shit we keep in there.”

“Well, there’d be no snacks if there was no fridge.”

“Flip a coin?” Ollie offers. 

Wicky grimaces, crossing his arms. “Oh no, dude, I’m not leaving this shit up to chance. Could you imagine a coin flip deciding sharing something so important?”

Ollie thinks for a second, tapping his chin for emphasis. “Wait, I’ve got it!”

Wicky plops down onto his bed as Ollie drags the fridge, carefully, across the room. He stops at the foot of the beds, and spreads his arms out with an “eh?” noise. 

“But, bro, how am I supposed to get cheese cubes when I’m drunk at one in the morning if the fridge is over there?”

Ollie sighs, but the unexpected chuckle that follows makes it sound more like a gross snorting noise. “We need to talk about your eating habits.”

“Says the man who cleared out a box of ice cream sandwiches in an hour.”

“Hey, low blow. You KNOW I get emotional when we watch old Disney movies. Besides, this is the only spot where it’s in the middle of the room with the beds pushed together like that.”

Wicky rolls his eyes, he knows Ollie has a point. He crawls across his bed and pushes the two beds together while Ollie fishes a pair of drinks out of the fridge.

“Here, man.” Ollie tosses a can to Wicky, who cracks it open and takes a swig. “Doesn’t this feel cozy?” 

Wicky waits until Ollie sits on his own side of the bed before scooting closer and resting his head on Ollie’s shoulder. 

“Hey, do y-” Wicky starts, before being interrupted by a knock.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” The voice, easily recognized by the Southern twang as one Eric Bittle, “I was hoping to talk to y’all.”

Ollie and Wicky look at each other and blink a couple times before Wicky walks over to open the door for Bitty.

“Afternoon, guys.” Bitty smiles, warm enough to melt the snow falling outside. He has a thermos in one hand and a plastic container in the other.

“Bits, bro, it’s a blizzard out and you live in the South, what are you doing out? Get the fuck in here, man.” Ollie calls from his seat on the bed.

“We live in the same dorm?” 

“But those containers are from the kitchen in the Haus, where you do all your baking. You dragged your ass through the snow to bake and bring it to us?” 

“Oh man, who died?” Wicky frowns as he shuts the door once Bitty is inside. 

Bitty sets the containers on the desk on one side of the room, undoing his scarf and carefully draping it over the desk chair. “Now, y’all, no one died. I just wanted to come check on you guys and say ‘hello’.”

“You could have texted us?” Ollie makes a face, gesturing vaguely with one hand. Wicky takes a seat on his bed, leaning over to smack Ollie on the head and muttering along the lines of ‘don’t be rude, dude’. 

Bitty shrinks a little. “Well, truth is, I was hoping to talk to you guys.” He sits down in the desk chair, crossing his hands in his lap. He goes wide eyed a second later, frantically grabbing the plastic container and opening it. “But first, cookies?”

Ollie and Wicky practically scramble over. A full container of something baked by Bitty just for them was, literally, a gift from god. No way they’d refuse the offer. 

Once the pair helps themselves to the contents of the container and are back on their beds, they sit and look at Bitty, who fidgets with his hands. 

“Goodness, this doesn’t get easier no matter how many times I do this.”

“Bits, what-” Wicky starts, but Ollie puts a hand up to quiet him. Wicky nods, looking from Bitty to Ollie and back. He nods at Bitty, takes a deep breath

“Well, y’all...I started doing this back before winter, but I didn’t have a chance to get to everyone. I-” Bitty breathes in again, closing his eyes, “I’m gay. I’m sorry it took so long to tell you guys, it’s just-a lot.”

Ollie and Wicky take a moment, letting Bitty compose himself. Ollie speaks first, “Bro, don’t apologize, we both know how hard it is to talk to people about this-”

Bitty sees Wicky pause mid-sentence and he and Ollie hold up each other’s hands. Bitty tilts his head and makes a noise like he’s just blown a gasket.

“We’ve both been out since high school, Bits.” Ollie hums, bumping his shoulder into Wicky playfully, “And we’ve been dating since, like, a week after that kegster where you did the sick keg stand for scoring that assist.”

Bitty gives the pair an incredulous look. “Y’all aren’t messing with me, are you?”

“What, dude no!” Wicky shakes his head. “Don’t you remember that week or so where we didn’t talk to each other?”

Bitty nods. “How could anyone forget that? You guys had been inseparable from day one and out of the blue, y’all just stopped talking.”

“Two stubborn bros who couldn’t get it in their heads to talk about shit.” Ollie shrugs.

“Turns out, communication is sexy. Buuuuut, this isn’t about us.” Wicky adds. “Congrats on coming out, dude!” 

“I do admit,” Bitty smiles, “I feel a bit silly making a big fuss about this.”

“Bullshit, bro.” Ollie reaches a fist out for Bitty, whose eyes light up. Not just anyone was worthy of an Ollie and Wicky fist bump. Wicky sticks out a fist as well, and Bitty is quick to reciprocate both of them.

“So, how’d the rest of the team take it?”

“Really well, actually.” Bitty claps his hands together, “Johnson even described it as a key turning point as main character of my story, which, y’all I don’t have an idea what that means but gosh if it didn’t FEEL supportive.” 

Ollie zips up his sweatshirt as a breeze blows, scooting closer to Wicky to steal some of his body heat. The pair had settled on a tree on campus in one of the quieter spots to take a moment to relax. 

Bitty bribed them earlier to help set things up for this year’s Taddy Tour, half a dozen mini apple pies delivered directly to their dorm room, no risk of being intercepted on their way out of the Haus and being forced to share. Little did they know that when Bitty planned an event, he PLANNED an event.

“Babe, I thought Bits was kidding when he made us move all that shit around.” Wicky shifts in his spot, catching Ollie’s attention.

Ollie nods, “Yeah, but Bro, the pies made it SO worth it.”

“He even brought them to us WARM!” 

Ollie chuckles. “Boy knows the way to a man’s heart.”

Wicky fakes a pout, turning to face Ollie “If you leave me for him I’ll NEVER forgive you.”

Ollie laughs a little louder, pulling Wicky close. “Babe, I could never. We’ve got history together.”

“Oh,” Wicky starts, completely changing the topic, “Did you do the history reading?”

Ollie snorts, pulling his boyfriend in closer and messing with his hair. They wrestle for a minute before Wicky knocks Ollie over and the pair lay there giggling.

“Hey!”

The pair darts up, adjusting themselves so they look presentable and not at all like they were caught mid-flirt. A guy they don’t recognize waves at them to catch their attention, and once confident he has it, comes jogging over.

“You guys go here, right?” The boy starts, beaming from underneath his Sharks hat. 

“Uh-” Ollie starts, pointing at his Samwell Hockey sweatshirt, “You know, that might explain the student loans.”

The boy chuckles, his laughter infectious, before sticking out a hand. “You play hockey here? That’s so cool! Oh, uh, I’m Chris, Chris Chow! I’m on the, uh-” He pauses, gesturing in the direction of Lardo and Bitty.

“Taddy Tour?” Wicky hums, amused, before shaking his hand. “Wicky. That’s Ollie. We’re on the team together.”

“Really? That’s ‘swawesome!”

Ollie quirks an eyebrow before shaking hands as well. “You picking up on the lingo, already?” 

“Oh yeah! I’ve done a ton of research about this place! I’ve already enrolled!” 

“Pace, I think we should keep him.” Ollie teases, grabbing the other man’s hand and pulling him to his feet so they’re both standing next to the new guy.

“So, Chow, you joining the team?”

“YES! It’s one of the reasons why I picked this school! It’s so cool to meet some of the players.” Chris is practically bouncing on his heels, looking up at the pair. He opens his mouth to continue, when Bitty calls out for him. “Ah, looks like I got caught sneaking off. Better...catch up with the group. It was nice meeting you guys, see you in the fall?”

Ollie and Wicky nod, both extending a fist. “This is kind of our thing, but you seem nice. Don’t leave us hanging, Chow.”

The way Chris’ brace-faced smile could melt the Arctic shelf is unbelievable as he returns the gesture with a ‘swawesome’ so pure it could undo the hole in the Ozone layer. He lets out a little shout before turning and running to rejoin the group, waving at the pair as he runs off.

“He was-”

“Excitable?” Wicky says slowly. Ollie makes a noise in agreement. 

They stand for a second, watching the Taddy Tour make its way off to the distance before Ollie speaks, “Wait, were you serious about me doing the History reading?”

Wicky sneaks up behind Ollie, who is focused on the book on his desk. He waits until Ollie turns a page, biting the end of his pen as his eyes scan the words on the page, before placing his head on Ollie’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around the other man.

Ollie lets out a sigh, using his free hand to reach up and ruffle Wicky’s hair. “Hey, Babe.”

“Workin’ hard?”

Ollie closes his eyes, setting his pen down on the page he had just finished reading. Wicky could make out scribbled notes and a few question marks dotting the page. “You could-you could say that.”

“Need help? You know I took AP Biology in high school.” 

“Maybe I just need a break. I’ve been doing research for this paper for weeks now. Stupid core science classes.” 

Wicky presses a kiss onto Ollie’s cheek, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe we should go for a little walk?”

Ollie nods, but stays still for a few moments, letting Wicky hold him. He imagines he sits a little too long, because Wicky breathes into his neck softly before tugging him out of the chair and onto the pushed together beds in the center of the room. He waits until Wicky has climbed onto his side of the bed before crawling over and burying his face in Wicky's sweatshirt.

"Ol, you good?"

"Tired."

"You've been flipping through that book for hours." 

"Gotta get a good grade." Ollie offers, voiced muffled.

Wicky frowns, reaching up to pull off Ollie's hat to run his fingers through his hair. “Bro, you still have time. Let the paper breathe for a bit.”

Ollie shifts, tilting his head up to look up at Wicky. “That’s easy coming from you, like the smartest guy I know.”

Wicky blushes, using his free hand to scratch the back of his head. “‘M not that smart, though.”

Ollie huffs, “Oh, don’t give me that. You have enough AP credits to, like, skip a bunch of classes here. That’s way fucking smart.”

“Yeah, but between that and sports, I had like NO social life in high school.”

“We talked every day.”

“Yeah, yeah we did, didn’t we.”

“Thank GOD, too,” Ollie rolls onto his side, scooting close to Wicky, “I woulda NEVER gotten over that break up in 11th grade without you to talk to.”

“Oh yeah. Hey, fuck that guy.”

“Hard pass.” Ollie chuckles and Wicky makes a gross choking noise as he takes a sip of water. He waits to make sure Wicky isn’t choking to death before rolling onto his side and flopping an arm over Wicky’s stomach. 

“It’s his loss, anyway.”   
“I’m already your boyfriend, don’t be a kiss ass.” Ollie teases, fighting back a smile.

Ollie frowns, staring at the locked door in front of them. It’s been a few days since they were eliminated from the playoffs, and the pair had been so wrapped up in classwork that they had neglected one thing.

“What are y’all doing here?” Bitty asks as he opens the door to his dorm room. 

“Well, we were worried about you?” Wicky offers.

“Oh. OH! Guys, I’m fine!” Bitty waves a hand, flustered. “No need to put up a fuss.” 

“Eric Bittle, we are you friends, let us be concerned about you.” Ollie crosses his arms. “Besides, we brought you something.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to-” Bitty stops mid sentence as Wicky presents some flowers and a card. “Aw, guys.”

“We know it’s very ‘get well soon’ but we couldn’t afford Beyoncé tickets.” Ollie jokes. “Seriously, though, you got checked pretty hard.”

“Yeah, it was...an experience.” Bitty picks his words carefully. “Really, though, this is very thoughtful.”

“Class of 2017 gotta stick together.” Ollie says, Wicky nodding in agreement. 

Bitty sets the flowers and card on his bed, mumbling something about ‘a spare vase Mama INSISTED I take for some reason’ before producing the offending vase from the top shelf of his closet. “Honestly, y’all, I don’t know HOW mothers do it sometimes.”

“Maybe she knew you’d be beating the eligible college boys back with a stick.” Wicky chuckles. He frowns when he sees Bitty freeze in his spot. “Wh-hey, Bits, I didn’t-”

“Wicky, you’re fine.” Bitty waves a hand. “Honestly, I don’t think that ever came up…”

“Hey, Bits.” Ollie begins, almost immediately, to cut the tension, “You wanna come downtown with us, we were gonna grab smoothies. Our treat.”

Bitty looks over the pair, offering their sincerest smiles. He places the flowers in the vase and sets it on his bedside table. “Okay, but, y’all better not make fun of the way I pronounce fruit names again.”

“Dude, your Southern twang is so cute though!” Wicky interjects. Ollie nods in agreement, and the pair fist bump.

Bitty fake pouts, cheeks turning pink. “Fine, but next time y’all pronounce ‘pecan’ wrong I’m giving the pie to the Lax Bros across the street.” 

Bitty watches as Ollie and Wicky let out the most dramatic, fake and unbelievable fake gasp, slapping their hands to their foreheads and falling against each other. Bitty grins before letting out an ugly laugh, and Ollie and Wicky smile. They each sling an arm around Bitty’s shoulder and head down the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 down, several more to go. I think I'm vibing with vignettes of each semester, but feedback is always appreciated! Cheers!


	3. Year 2 - Fall Semester

“Hey, you guys mind if I walk with you?”

Ollie stops mid step and spins to see Chowder wave and offer the pair a smile. They were a few weeks into the fall semester, and, true to his word, Christopher “Chowder” Chow was a proud member of the Samwell Mens’ Hockey team. He also managed to keep himself firmly logged in the hole he dug into Ollie and Wicky’s collective heart.

“‘Course, man, Ollie and I are headed to the library to work on some homework.” Wicky offers, shifting the weight of his backpack on his shoulder.

“Oh, can I tag along? Maybe if I have you guys with me I’ll-actually do some work.” Chowder rubs the back of his head.

A breeze blows through the common and Ollie reaches up to tug his hat a bit tighter on his head. He glances to his left past Wicky, over to Chowder, who is eagerly recounting his morning Math class. Ollie nods along, and Chowder, content with that reaction, continues his story. Ollie scoots closer to Wicky, bumping their shoulders together. Wicky glances over with a smile, and Ollie blows him a kiss.

They reach the library and head in, opting for a table off to the side underneath a fairly large window. The sun shines through, offering a warm contrast to the A/C cranked up inside. Ollie unceremoniously dumps his backpack on the table and falls into the chair in the corner. 

“Bro, have a LITTLE class.” Wicky play-chides, sitting in the chair next to Ollie and placing his own backpack in his lap, unzipping it open and rifling through its contents. 

Chowder takes a seat on the opposite side of the table, wiggling in the chair a bit to get comfortable before setting his bag on the adjacent chair and pulling his laptop out carefully. 

“Hey Pace, you get your half of that paper done yet?” Ollie leans over to poke Wicky in the arm with the capped end of his pen. “I need to read ‘em over so I can start on mine.”

“Oh, fuck, right. Lemme send them to you now.” Wicky taps at his keyboard a few times before his laptop makes a ‘fwoosh’ noise. 

“Badass, okay, lemme finish my writing for my Lit class and I’ll check it out.”

“Are you guys in a lot of classes together?” Chowder asks.

“A few. We both have pretty similar majors so we’re trying to alternate classes during semesters so we can swap papers and stuff between them.” Ollie smirks. 

“Oh, wow, that sounds pretty-” Chowder blinks a few times. “Resourceful?”

“Hell yeah, dude.” Ollie says, and turns so he and Wicky can fist bump. 

"But just those few?"

"Yeah, Mister Smartypants over here is in a bunch of honors classes. I didn't get as much brains as he did."

"Bro, c'mon, you're embarrassing me." Wicky whines. Ollie laughs, reaching over to pat him on the head.

At some point, the trio have fallen into a rhythm, typing in mostly silence except for the occasional nudge and whisper between Ollie and Wicky, trying to hash out the shared paper they’ve been working on. At some point Ollie sighs, getting up and grumbling something about his hatred of bibliographies before disappearing further into the library.

“So you guys are really good friends, huh?” Chowder looks up from his laptop to smile at Wicky.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. We actually met way back in elementary school and have been friends since then. I moved away at the end of middle school but we both enrolled here and have been really close since meeting back up.”

“Oh that’s ‘swawesome!” Chowder shouts, just a few decibels too loud for a library, before covering his mouth.

Wicky laughs softly. “Yeah, it’s pretty ‘swawesome. I missed having him around, you know.”

“I can tell.” Chowder nods. “You two seem super close. I think even Ransom and Holster are jealous of how tight you guys are.” 

“Yeah.” Wicky sighs, content, oblivious to the fact that Chowder can see right through his nonchalant mask. He notices Chowder’s smile turn devious. “What, dude?”

“Noooothing.” Chowder twists his smile into feigning innocence, and he turns his attention back to his laptop. 

“Pace, score!” Ollie returns, a few books tucked under his arm. “Found what we’re looking for and then some.”

“Tell me why we can’t just use all online sources?” 

“Cause, dude, the professor is ancient and we all know old white people are set in their ways.” Ollie grins when he hears Chowder stifle a laugh across the table.

“Shit.” Wicky squints at the time on his laptop, “Go check those books out, we gotta get to Faber soon.”

“Oh, it got late.” Chowder pouted. “I was really enjoying you guy’s company!”

“Then do we have great news, Chow, cause we’re on the same team and we’ll be late if we don’t all get our asses in gear.”

Wicky takes a drink from the can in his hand, watching Shitty break into his spiel as the newest members of the team, plus one Jack Zimmermann, stare up at him. It’s initiation time again at Samwell, and Wicky is thankful it’s his turn to watch from the sidelines.

“Having fun?” Ollie creeps up behind Wicky, gives a quick hug before sticking out a fist.

Wicky turns and smiles, returning Ollie’s fist bump.

“Where did they find feathers?” Ollie chuckles, crossing his arms and leaning against Wicky to watch. 

“I’m less concerned about the feathers themselves and more concerned about how they got the feathers to stick to four half naked men.”

Ollie grimaces, then lets out a laugh, “Schnasty, dude. I do not want to consider the possibilities.” 

Ollie and Wicky share another laugh before Ollie fishes a beer out of the cooler at the pair’s feet. “Oh man, I feel a little bad for them.”

“Why, they didn’t feel bad for us last year.” Wicky crushes his empty can and tosses it into the trash. “Besides, it’s just for fun, Bitty even brought pie.”

“And sweaters.” Ollie chuckles. “He’s so pure, imagine him trying to run a hazing.”

“Can’t, impossible, will never happen.” Wicky shakes his head. “Our sweet Bitty doesn’t have it in him.”

The pair watch across the rink, Bitty deflates as Holster closes the lid on the plastic container in his hands. He turns, catches sight of the pair and offers them a smile.

“Bits!” Ollie raises his can in the air before taking another sip. 

“Y’all, it is such a treat to be on the other end of this hazing thing.” Bitty begins and he makes his way over to the pair. “But I swear, I made all this pie and they just WILL not let me pass it around.”

“Y’know, Wicky and I aren’t being hazed.” Ollie flashes a sheepish grin, and Bitty rolls his eyes.

“Y’all are insatiable. But the pie is getting cold and I CANNOT let it go to waste.”

“Sweet, come sit and bullshit with us.” 

Bitty waits as the pair grab a few more drinks. They make their way off the ice and into the stands. Ollie and Wicky sit and Bitty follows suit, sitting one row in front and turning to face them. He offers them the container and a pair of forks he brought along and they accept, happily.

“Say Bitty, now that you’re living in the Haus, I guess you know the Frogs a bit better than we do. Thoughts?” Ollie asks, getting straight to business before taking a bite of pie.

“Oh, well,” Bitty glances from Ollie and Wicky and over to the ice, “They’re interesting. Chowder is sweet, friendly, really loves playing on the team. Nursey and Dex are-”

“They fight like a married couple.” Wicky states, and he and Ollie fist bump. 

“They do have a tendency to...bicker. It can take a while for conflicting personalities to learn to get along.”

“Like you and Zimmermann?” Ollie said, mouth now full of pie, but also things to say.

“Y-yeah, kind of. I don’t think Jack and I really ever fought like that, he was just, uh-”

“Firm, but fair?”

“Yeah, let’s get with that.” Bitty gives a lighthearted chuckle. “I’m sure they’ll learn to get along.”

“I dunno, I could see it.” Wicky shrugs. 

Ollie catches on to his suggestion immediately, and shakes his head, “No way, dude, they’d never work together.”

“Y’all aren’t meaning to suggest-”

“C’mon Bits,” Wicky takes a sip of his drink, “Enemies to friends to lovers? People love a feel good story like that.”

“Y’all I’d, rather not speculate this kind of stuff, it’s incredibly personal.” Bitty rubs the back of his neck. “Imagine if they talked about you like that.”

“Wow, they sure do fist bump a lot.” Ollie mocks, putting on his best dudebro voice.

“Yeah, don’t they have any personality?” Wicky joins in with a laugh, and the pair fist bump again.

“Okay, so you two aren’t bothered by it, but a lot of people are. Put yourself in their shoes.”

“Right, right, no, you’re right.” Ollie relents. “We’ll check our privilege, or whatever Shitty says we have because we’re white dudes.” 

“Anyway, as I was saying, give them time to get to know each other. I will say, though, I wish they’d be more thoughtful when dragging Chowder into their arguments. Must be hard being the middleman all the time.”

Wicky frowns. “Chow’s too nice to ever say no, is the issue. Respect for him wanting to take care of his friends, but sometimes he needs to just take a step back.” 

Both Bitty and Ollie nod in agreement, before Ollie laughs and points, “Speaking of our sweet goalie, he just puked on Shitty’s legs.”

“Oh, bless his heart.” Bitty mumbles as he stands, pulling a towel out of the bag he had placed beside his feet. He runs off in the direction of the ice and Ollie and Wicky, still laughing, follow behind him.

A rare day off, and the opportunity for an afternoon nap, interrupted by a knocking on the door. Wicky sighs, pressing his face into the front of Ollie’s sweatshirt. Ollie, now awake because of the knocking, breathes in and squeezes his eyes shut. 

The knock persists, and both men realize ONE of them is going to have to see who it is.

“Babe, it’s your turn to answer.” Ollie play-shoves Wicky, and the other groans in protest. The knocking persists, and Wicky groans louder, but does roll off and trudge over to the door.

The door opens slowly, and a nervous looking Chowder greets Wicky. He tugs on his hoodie strings lightly, clearly more nervous off the ice than Wicky can recall seeing him.

“Hey, uh, hey guys!” Chowder tries to muster a greeting, but fails to mask that something is on his mind. “I can come back if you’re...busy.”

“Hey Chow, no, come in dude.” Ollie sits up slowly, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh, did I wake you guys up? I-I’m sorry, I-”

“Chowder, get your ass in here.” Ollie orders. 

“Yessir.” Chowder nods, ducking into the room and straight onto the bed. He positions himself next to Ollie, right in the middle of the bed, and sits with his legs to his chest.

Wicky returns to his side of the bed, positioning Chowder firmly between him and Ollie. “You good, man?”

“Yeah, I-no, I’m kinda stressed, actually.” Chowder mumbles. He lets out a noise, not quite a sob, and rests his head on Ollie’s shoulder.

“Talk to us, bud.”

“Well, I just-” Chowder pauses, and Wicky puts an arm around him and pats his shoulder, “I love Dex and Nursey, they’re my best friends, but they’re both so-”

“Intense?” Wicky offers.

“I mean, yeah. They’re always fighting or arguing or just getting on each other’s nerves. I tried to talk to Bitty cause I thought he might be able to help them get along, but it didn’t help. I don’t want my friends fighting, but I DEFINITELY don’t want to keep getting dragged in between them. It’s just WAY too much to handle all the time.”

Ollie waits, gives Chowder a second to breathe. “Have you told them this?”

“Of course. I keep saying they need to stop fighting and work things out. I’ve offered to help them talk but I’m just-” Chowder hesitates. “I’m just really stressed, I guess. They won’t listen, and I wasn’t sure who to talk to, honestly.”

“Well, do you feel better talking to us?”

Chowder nods, reaching up to rub his nose. At some point, he had started crying. “A lot, actually. You guys are, like, the opposite of them.”

“Dating?” Ollie offers, trying to lighten the mood. 

Chowder sniffs, but lets out a laugh. “I guess that’s also true. I meant, like, you’re good at talking to each other, it’s so much more peaceful being around you.”

“Peaceful?”

“Well, compared to Dex and Nursey.” Chowder sniffs again, wiping at his eyes. 

“Chow, you can always come talk to us.” Wicky pats Chowder’s shoulder again. “And don’t cry, man, it’s breaking my heart.”

Ollie frowns, reaching up to ruffle Chowder’s hair. “Why don’t you hang with us for the afternoon?”

“R-really? That’d be-”

“‘Swawesome?”

“Yeah.” Chowder wipes his eye once again and shivers when both Ollie and Wicky hug him at the same time. He bites back tears again, happy this time, and melts into the hug. “Yeah, I think I’ll stay with you guys.”

“You’re always welcome.”

“Bitty, are you sure you need this many apples?” Ollie says, elbows resting on the table in the Haus kitchen, half peeled apple in one hand and a peeler in the other. “Can’t you, like, OVERFILL a pie?”

“Y’all, I brought you here to help, not critique. If you think you can do better, maybe I’ll hang up the apron.”

“Absolutely not!” Wicky walks up behind Ollie and flicks the brim of his backwards hat. “Please forgive him, he’s not the brains of the relationship.”

“Bro, I’m literally armed right now, don’t test me.” Ollie teases, waving around the peeler. 

“Please, like you’d do anything to hurt me.” Wicky fires back, sticking his tongue out for emphasis. 

“Boys, this is a kitchen, not a boxing ring.” Bitty chuckles, spreading flour on the counter before turning his attention to the pie dough he’s working on. “And I will not have any blood while I am baking.”

“We’ll be good, Dad.” 

“Y’all better, or I’m sending you to live with your mother.” Bitty retorts, and both Ollie and Wicky stop, speechless, before the trio laugh.

“How is Jack, by the way?” Wicky says when the laughter subsides. He looks over as the bowl nearly slips out of Bitty’s hands, but he scrambles and it clatters against the counter. “Bitty?”

“Oh, hehe, slippery hands?” Bitty chuckles nervously. He looks over to Ollie and Wicky, hands and apron covered in flour and bits of dough. 

“Bits, you good?” Ollie sets the peeled apple into the bowl on the table, looking over.

Bitty falters, and he turns his attention back to rolling out his pie dough. “I’m peachy. Jack’s good, I think he’s been figuring out his plan for after he graduates.”

Ollie and Wicky glance at each other, exchanging concern but agreeing not to push. “Makes sense. Mr. NHL has to make a big choice, I guess.”

“Yeah, I don’t envy him.” Wicky nods, checking the oven temperature to make sure it was actually heating up.

“I envy the bank he’s gonna be raking in, though.” Ollie grabs another apple. 

“A-anyway, y’all,” Bitty changes the subject quick enough to cause whiplash, “This dough is ready to go. Just need to prep the filling.”

“Apples are peeled, boss.” Ollie puts the peeler down and salutes.

“Just finishing the last one.” Wicky hums, slicing up the apple Ollie just dumped in the bowl. He scoops the slices up and dumps them in.

“Nice work, you two.” Bitty says as he collects the bowl of sliced apples. Try as he may, Ollie and Wicky can see the faint tremble in his hands. “You know my filling is a secret, so scram.” 

“Yes Sir!” Ollie salutes again, and he and Wicky duck out of the room and into the living room. 

Ollie had thought ahead, and laid a throw blanket over the infamous green couch. He knew to use one he wouldn’t miss, anything more than 15 minutes and it was part of the couch. 

“So, do we ask Bitty again if he’s okay?” Wicky leans in to whisper to Ollie once they’ve carefully positioned themselves on the couch. “I don’t wanna push, but he seemed upset.”

“Listen, not everyone will pour their hearts out to us like Chowder does.” Ollie shakes his head. “Love him for that, by the way. But Pace, if Bitty wants to talk, he will.”

“You sure? He was shaking, Babe, SHAKING.” Wicky whisper shouts that last word, to get his point across.

“I know, I saw it too, but-”

“Sorry it took a bit longer than usual.” Bitty’s voice fills the room, bringing the pair’s conversation to an end. “I do think poor Betsy has seen better days.” 

Ollie and Wicky exchange glances again as Bitty sits in the armchair off to the side of the couch, a slightly more recent acquisition to the Haus, something that doesn’t require any warning labels to keep within reach of living humans.

“So, we’ve got a bit of time while the pie cooks, which is great cause I haven’t had a chance to catch up with y’all in a hot second! How are classes going?”

“Oh, you know, passing.” Ollie shrugs, leaning against Wicky and crossing one leg over his knee. “Might’ve failed my last math exam, I think.”

“Bro, no way, you aced that! After all, I helped you study.”

“Yeah, buuuuut, we’re not all as smart as you are.”

“I’m not THAT smart, just good at studying and tests.” Wicky turns away, blushing.

“Bro, I’m SHIT at tests, that’s part of why you’re so smart!”

Bitty watches the banter, sighs, joining his hands and resting them in his lap. 

“What about you, Bits?” 

Bitty’s head snaps up, he didn’t realize he was spacing out until addressed. “Oh, uh, everything’s peachy! Jack and I are in a Food and Culture class together.”

“Right, you mentioned weaseling your way into a Senior course. Big brain shit, man.” Wicky offers a thumbs up. 

“I suppose so. And y’all, this is between us ONLY, but Jack’s talent is certainly on the ice, not in the kitchen.” 

“I KNEW he had to have a weakness.” Ollie hums, triumphant.

“ESPECIALLY with an ass like that.” Wicky adds, and Ollie nods in agreement. 

Bitty raises an eyebrow, lets out a chuckle. He pauses, shifts in his seat, thinks for a moment longer than he really should. “I suppose y’all are the best people to tell about this. So, uh, I think I might like someone.”

“Bro!”

“Dude, Bitty!” 

“Now settle down, I should inform y’all that I’ve committed the cardinal sin of being gay….I think I’ve fallen….for a straight boy.” Bitty hangs his head in shame, and Ollie and Wicky summon up the most extra gasp they can muster. They wait for a minute before leaning forward, undivided attention now on Bitty.

“Bits, bro, you gotta spill the deets. Who is this mystery straight man?”

“Oh, uh, just someone in one of my classes.” Bitty waves a hand. 

“Dude, cop-out answer! You can’t leave us hangin’ like that.” Wicky huffs, crossing his arms. 

“It’s nothing, honestly.” Bitty insists. “I’ll just-”

“Ignore it? That’s so sad, though.” Ollie frowns, concerned, and Wicky nods in agreement.

Bitty frowns, crossing his arms. He opens his mouth to say something when the timer rings from the kitchen. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Babe, Shitty wants us to come to his “Epic Kegster” or whatever tonight.” Ollie says, glancing up from his homework, looking over at Wicky, sprawled out on the bed watching something on his phone.

“Do we have to? They always play such shitty music. And the booze, oh God, I’d sooner just drink fucking rubbing alcohol.”

“And, more than a dozen people and the place smells like, well, the locker room at the gym.”

“Dude, you can’t insult the gym like that.” Wicky sits up. Ollie laughs, scribbling down the last answer and closing his book.

“Stay in, then?”

“Works for me. Besides, it’s not like anyone cool or famous is gonna show up. It’s a college frat party, y’know?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am WEAK for Ollie and Wicky having meaningful friendships with their teammates. I definitely included that bit with them and Chowder last chapter on purpose. And they and Bitty? TRULY gay icons.


	4. Year 2 Bonus - Winter Screw

”Wicks, Bro, come here a second.”

Wicky looks up from his laptop, and Holster waves at him from the doorway to the kitchen. “Either come here or just talk to me from there, I’m in the middle of an essay due tomorrow.”

Holster joins Wicky, sitting opposite side of the kitchen table. “Okay, bro, listen, you and Ollie totally bailed on us last year. We gotta get you guys to the Winter Screw this year.”

“Winter Screw? Are we really going to talk about this again?” Wicky repeats, cocking an eyebrow and his fingers come to a stop. 

“Yeah, dude. The whole team’s gonna be there. You guys have to come!” 

Wicky pinches the bridge of his nose. “You guys still do that thing where you pick each other’s dates?”

“‘Course, man, it’s tradition. You and Ollie are so close, it should be a sinch. I do know a few girls, though, if you need a little assistance.” Holster winks at that last bit, and Wicky scrunches up his nose.

“I dunno, Hols, Ollie and I aren’t really the big social gathering type.”

“Please, man?” Holster pouts, his best puppy dog face. “It wouldn’t be the same without you guys.”

Wicky sighs, shutting his laptop. “I’ll talk to him about it, but I will promise NOTHING.”

Holster claps his hands together, “Bro, this is gonna be EPIC!”

“They want us to go to that stupid winter dance?” Ollie asks as he tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it on the floor. 

“Yeah, I said the same thing.” Wicky rolls onto his side to face Ollie as he climbs into bed. “I dunno, Ol, we didn’t go to that Kegster than Kent Parson showed up to, I don’t want them to get the idea that we aren’t, like, part of the team, or that we don’t like them.”

Wicky pauses, sighs. He scoots over to Ollie, and the other man wraps his arms around him.   
“I don’t think they think that, Babe.” Ollie says, pressing a kiss onto Wicky’s forehead. 

“Maybe we should-should we go?” 

“Maybe. But what about the ‘pick each other’s dates’ nonsense?”

“Well, obviously I pick myself to be your date.”

“And I volunteer as tribute to be yours.” 

“So,” Wicky concludes, “Seems we’ve got that issue taken care of. But, uh, what if they ask where our dates are?”

“We just tell them?”

“Babe, I love you, but we do NOT want the team knowing we’re dating. You know how full the fine jar is gonna get if they find that out?”

“Ah.” Ollie makes a face. “I see your point. Oh, duh! I think I’ve got it.”

Compared to the Kegsters the team is known to throw, a school arranged dance seems tame. Ollie and Wicky walk in together, and Ransom and Holster are at their side quick enough that they may be eligible for a lawsuit for whiplash.

“Bros, you came!” Holster claps a hand on each man’s shoulder. “But it’s just you guys?”

“Yeah, we kind of-” Wicky begins, looking away.

“Forgot to ask anyone until last minute! Side tracked with finals and games, y’know?”

Ransom shakes his head. “Damn shame. I’m sure you guys can find some girls here, though.”

“Speaking of which,” Holster points off into the room, and Ransom grins, “We’ll catch you bros later!”

Ollie watches the pair disappear into the crowd. He lets out a sigh. “Those guys are-”

“They sure are.” Wicky struggles for a reply. “Should we go….mingle?”

“Might as well. Maybe we can find Bitty or Chowder.”

“Didn’t Chowder mention having a date?”

“A date? Our son is already so grown up!” Ollie puts a hand to his chest. Wicky rolls his eyes, swatting at Ollie’s shoulder.

Wicky reaches out, grabs Ollie’s hand and leads him into the crowd. There’s enough people in attendance that a run in with the team, while possible, can hopefully be avoided. 

“Hey!”

“Where, there goes the element of surprise.” Ollie mumbles and the pair come to a stop somewhere off to the side of the room.

“I wasn’t sure they could convince you guys to come!” Chowder beams, pulling the pair into a hug. 

“Hey Chow! God, for a second we thought you were someone we weren’t interested in talking to.”

“Yeah, good thing we love you, man.” Ollie ruffles Chowder’s hair, and the younger man makes a noise in protest, swatting at Ollie’s hand.

“I hope they didn’t bully you guys into bringing dates.”

“Chowder, you think we’d let Ransom or Holster tell us what to do?” Ollie puts his hands on his hips, Wicky nodding in agreement.

“Well, they tried to ‘help us’ by ‘suggesting’ some ‘options’,” Wicky begins, rolling his eyes, “But we made up some shit about forgetting to do it.”

“Guys, just tell the team you’re dating! No one’s gonna care!”

“We care, Chow. I’m a broke college student I can’t afford those fines!” 

“Yeah, plus,” Wicky adds, “It’s not their business?”

Chowder pauses thoughtfully before shrugging. “Well anyway, I’m happy to see you guys, regardless. Oh, my date, you should meet her!”

“You really did bring a date!” Ollie’s eyes light up.

“Bro, you gotta let us meet her. If she’s not good enough for you we’ll let you know.”

“Guys, don’t be mean.” Chowder huffs. “She just stepped out to use the bathroom, I’ll stick with you guys so she can find us!”

Almost on cue, Ollie and Wicky notice a girl approach. She’s got light brown hair and blue eyes that sparkle when they meet with Chowder’s. Chowder reaches out and takes her hand.

“Oh, Babe, she’s pretty!” Wicky smiles, leaning against Ollie.

“Guys, this is Caitlin!”

“Please, call me ‘Farmer’ if you’d like.” 

“Oh!” Ollie and Wicky both exclaim at once, before Ollie continues, “This is the volleyball girl you told us about!”

Chowder laughs nervously, face turning red. Farmer looks amused, looking from Ollie to Chowder and back.

“I’m Ollie, by the way. And this is Wicky.” 

“Chowder’s mentioned you two.” Farmer smiles. “Says you guys are close friends of his.”

“Aw, Chow!” Wicky grins. “You think we’re close friends?”

“Wh-of course!” Chowder nods furiously. “I didn’t make you guys think you weren’t, right?”

“‘Course not, dude, it’s just really sweet to hear it out loud.” Ollie pats a hand on Chowder’s shoulder. “Farmer, it’s nice to meet you. We’ve heard nothing but good things about you, as well.”

“Starting to think Chowder ONLY knows how to say nice things.” Wicky hums, mostly to himself. 

“So,” Farmer looks between Ollie and Wicky, “You two here alone? Chowder mentioned something about your team picking dates for each other.”

“Oh, well actually-” Chowder starts. Ollie holds up his hand, glancing over at Wicky, who nods.  
“We’re actually here together. We’re dating.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet!” Farmer grins, giving the pair similar vibes the man standing next to her. 

“B-but don’t make a big deal about it!” Chowder shakes his hands, clearly out of his element. “The team doesn’t know, so-”

“Chowder, it’s fine. We’re not keeping it a secret. We just don’t, like, announce it or anything.”

“Besides, she seems nice, so we don’t mind sharing.” 

Farmer puts a hand to her chest, showing she’s flattered. “Chris, your friends seem so nice.”

“We really are.” Wicky jokes, and Farmer laughs.

The music changes, and Farmer claps her hands together. “I LOVE this song.” She takes Chowder’s hand. “Come on, let’s go dance!”

“Oh, uh, okay! See you around, guys?”

“Go have fun, Chow.”

“But leave room for Jesus!” Wicky teases, and Ollie smacks his hand to his face, failing to hold back a laugh. Once they’re alone again, Wicky turns to Ollie. “She seems nice, good for him.”

“She’s right, too, this song is a jam. Wanna dance?”

“You’re terrible at dancing, Bro.” Wicky chuckles, taking Ollie’s hand regardless and leading him over to where some of their peers are interpreting the term ‘dancing’ in their own unique ways. 

“Man, remember the middle school dances we went to?” Ollie hums. 

“Oh, God, I would prefer not to.” Wicky laughs. “Awkward 7th graders avoiding each other, cliques clustering in a fucking gymnasium.”

“Literally the worst.” 

“Now, the couple of high school dances I went to.” Wicky begins.

“Yeah?”

“Literally just as bad.” Wicky deadpans. “Except the high schoolers try to sneak in alcohol.”

“Oh, like middle schoolers don’t try to pull that shit, too?”

“Very good point.” 

Ollie is about to say something when the song changes, some slow song Ollie has never heard before. He offers Wicky a soft smile. “Guess we’re slow dancing, now?”

“Guess so.” Wicky hums. He puts a hand on Ollie’s waist and they start to sway to the music. Neither know HOW to slow dance, but they’re doing their best.

“Babe, what do you think it would’ve been like to go to prom?”

“You didn’t go to your prom?” Wicky perks up. 

“No, dude, that was the year I broke my leg, remember?”

“Fuck, that’s right. We stayed up all night watching movies that night!”

“A much preferred option, let’s be real.”

“Babe, prom is, like, a high school staple.” Wicky gives Ollie a look, “Watching movies over Skype is not a substitute.”

“It is if I get to spend it with you.” Ollie smirks, pressing a kiss into Wicky’s neck. 

“That was so cheesy.” Wicky smiles, fighting back a laugh. He closes his eyes, resting his head on Ollie’s shoulder.

“This is nicer than I thought it’d be, maybe we should forgive Rans and Holster for being so-”

“Persistent?”

Ollie chuckles. “Yeah, that’s a word for it. They mean well, though.”

Wicky nods. “But God are they oblivious.”

The song ends, and something more upbeat starts to play. Ollie and Wicky stay close to each other, barely moving.

“Hey.” Ollie says softly, bringing a hand up to cup Wicky’s cheek. “I love you.”

Wicky leans in, pressing his lips to Ollie’s. They stay like that for a few moments.

Ollie pulls away, and takes Wicky’s hand. “Well, we showed up, we danced. Why don’t we get out of here?”

“Move the party back to our room.” Wicky raises an eyebrow. Ollie smirks, squeezing Wicky’s hand and pulling him toward the exit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just needed something wholesome and fun. I never went to a college dance when I was in school, if you couldn't tell.


	5. Year 2 - Spring Semester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW for Homophobia in this chapter

Chowder’s amazed gasp fills the silence as the team gathers around the frozen lake just off campus, colloquially known as “The Pond”. It’s cold, bitterly, but deceptively sunny. A classic January day in New England.

Half the team gasps as Bitty skates out and shows off the fact that he not only DID figure skating, but still remembered what he learned.

Ollie and Wicky, however, have used this much appreciated distraction to sneak off just past The Pond into a small gathering of trees. 

Ollie has Wicky’s hand, leading him through the snow. Once sufficiently out of the view of the group, he pushes Wicky up against a tree, the other man letting out a breathy laugh. Ollie closes the gap almost instantly, bringing the pair together. 

“Zimmermann’s not gonna like it if he notices we’re missing.” Wicky breaks the kiss. 

Ollie frowns. “Don’t think about him while I’m trying to make out with you, Babe.”

“Sorry, I just-this is his last semester, he’s gonna expect a lot from the team.”

Ollie sighs, pressing his forehead against Wicky’s and closing his eyes. “I know. But I missed you, and you’re more important than worrying about hockey.”

Wicky chuckles, leaning in to kiss Ollie again. “Bro, I spent a week with you at your house.”

“Still too long to spend apart.” 

“That’s sweet, you’re sweet, but Jack is literally shouting at the guys to do some practice matches.”

“Fuck.” Ollie curses, hesitantly pulling away from Wicky, hands still joined. “We should probably-”

Wicky leans forward again, stealing one more kiss before pulling Ollie back toward the group.

“Sweet!” Holster calls out just as the two appear, nonchalantly blending into the team. “I thought I saw you guys. Ollie, Wicks, you’re on my team!”

“Babe, you know I hate shopping.” 

Ollie looks up from the two shirts he’s holding in his hands. Wicky has his arms crossed, foot tapping. “Pacer, Lardo’s art show is in like two days, she made it clear we have to look nice.”

“I always look nice.” 

“Wicky, you know you make me tremble just at the thought of you, but a polo shirt and jeans is NOT dressed up.”

Wicky huffs, rolling his eyes. “Can we at least, like, coordinate colors.”

“Nothing says gay couple like matching shirts, huh?” Ollie chuckles, sticking a shirt back on the rack before pulling another one and holding it in front of Wicky.

“Blue is always good.” Wicky offers, a subtle jab at the purple shirt Ollie was sizing up. 

“Cool colors, then.” Ollie mumbles. He spins, a rack of shirts catching his eye, and he drags Wicky over. “Blue?”

“Blue, grey, black, maybe a tame shade of green?”

“Blue and green?” Ollie raises an eyebrow. 

“Like, a blue-green?” Wicky gestures with his hands. 

Ollie taps at his chin, eyes scanning his options before they come to a stop on a long sleeve button up in navy blue. “Hey, Pace.” He calls out, grabbing the shirt and offering it to his boyfriend. 

“You want me to try it on?”

“No, I’m handing it to you so you can fold it and put it back. Yes, go try it on, dude!”

Wicky takes the shirt, shakes his head and disappears into the dressing room. Ollie goes back to scanning the shelves for something that catches his eye while matching the color he just picked out. 

“Hey, Ollie, can you-uh, gimme a hand?”

Ollie quirks his mouth, walking over to the dressing room Wicky picked out and knocking on the door. It cracks open and Ollie slips inside.

“Bro, you know I’m shit with buttoning shirts.” 

Wicky is standing there, jacket and shirt on the dressing room floor, button down half pulled up and open. Ollie’s eyes go straight to his bare chest, and he shakes his head to refocus.

“Pace, you are a grown man, it’s just a shirt.”

“Come here and help me.” Wicky insists, stepping closer to Ollie, not that the gap was that far, considering the size of a dressing room. 

“Okay, just-just hold still, dude.” Ollie reaches out, fumbling with the buttons on the shirt Wicky is trying on. His hands brush against Wicky’s stomach, and Wicky squirms a bit. “Dude.”

“Sorry, it’s just-cramped in here.”

“Dude, we’ve shared a shower stall before.” Ollie rolls his eyes, cheeks reddening regardless. “This is like a penthouse, considering.”

“Babe, just-just button up the fucking shirt so we can go!” 

“Stop wiggling around and I will!”  
Much like dressing a child, eventually Ollie gets the shirt buttoned up, and he looks Wicky up and down. “Damn, if I wasn’t already your boyfriend I’d be all over this is a hot second.”

“We are not banging in the dressing room.” Wicky deadpans. 

“Not even a little?” Ollie wiggles his eyebrows. Wicky smirks but opens the door to shove Ollie out.

Ollie returns to the rack of shirts, selecting a pale teal one to go with the blue one he selected for Wicky, shirts complementing each other just like they do.

“Ollie, Wicky!” Lardo smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You guys came!”

“Of course, Lards.” Ollie smiles, fiddling with the collar to Wicky’s shirt. “We wouldn’t miss this.”

“You guys look nice, by the way. Love the colors.”

“All Ollie.” Wicky smacks his boyfriend’s away. “Leave it!”

“Babe, I gotta-” Ollie’s interrupted by Lardo’s laugh.

“You guys are something else.” Lardo offers, her expression genuine. “Please don’t change. Hey, uh, I gotta mingle with the guests, but most of the team is here, you should look around!”

“Oh, Lardo, before you go!” Wicky holds out a bouquet of flowers, arranged tastefully and wrapped with a Samwell red bow.

“You guys!” 

“We both took an art history class as an elective and learned about the lady who painted flowers that looked like vaginas, so we tried to get ones that looked as close to those as we could.” Ollie offers and Lardo accepts the flowers from Wicky.

“Aw, you guys! Georgia O’Keeffe would be so proud! Thank you.” Lardo wipes a stray tear before pulling the pair into a quick hug. “This was so sweet. Please, look around, enjoy! I’ll see you guys!”

“Shall we?” Ollie offers a hand to Wicky as Lardo disappears into the crowd. Wicky takes it. And they head into the exhibit proper. 

After a few minutes, they settle on...well, it’s something.

“Is that...a bedazzled jockstrap?” Ollie squints.

“I-Yes?” Wicky tilts his head,as confused as Ollie is.

“Sup brahs!” Shitty appears between the pair, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders.

“Jesus, FUCK, Shitty, are you trying to kill us?” Wicky puts a hand to his chest.

Shitty laughs, hair bouncing as he moves his head. “Sorry, just psyched to see you guys! Like what you see?”

“Sorry, Shits, we’re happily spoken for.” Ollie jokes.

“Nah, brahs, I mean the art!” Shitty gestures his chin at the aforementioned bedazzled athletic wear.

“Are-Did you-”

“Are you responsible for this?” 

Shitty grins proudly. “Hell yeah, Lards needed a bedazzler and I can’t say no to art.”

“We’re really interpreting the word art loosely.” Wicky mumbles, letting out a noise as Ollie elbows him.

“Dude, be nice.”

“They’re-very artistic? Creative!” 

Shitty chuckles, patting the pair on the shoulders. “I’m proud of Lardo, even if I don’t get everything she’s made, y’know?”

“Of course, makes sense. I don’t get baking but seeing Bitty feel accomplished every time we enjoy something he makes is a good feeling.” Ollie agrees.

“Guys!” Chowder pops into Ollie and Wicky’s view. “I THOUGHT I heard your voices!” 

Before either can protest, Chowder has pulled them both, and Shitty, who is still wedging himself between them, into a hug. 

“Hey Chow! You here with Farmer?”

“Oh, no, she had Volleyball stuff to do.” Chowder’s smile softens a bit. “But Dex and Nursey came with me!

Ollie looks over Chowder’s shoulder, where Dex and Nursey are closely examining an abstract painting of...something? Ollie realizes he isn’t too sure what he’s looking at, and decides to look away before it makes him feel existential. 

“Nice to see them getting along.”

“Oh yeah! I tried talking to them again after the last time I hung out with you two, and they seem to be doing better! Not perfect, but they’re trying and it makes me happy.”

Shitty has disappeared at this point, leaving Ollie and Wicky free to hold hands and hover on top of each other, as you do. Chowder looks down at their hands and smiles.  
“Something amusing?” Wicky raises an eyebrow.

“You guys are holding hands in public.”

“And? We’re allowed to do that.”

“No, I know, I meant-”

Ollie smiles, reaching up to ruffle Chowder’s hair. Whatever shampoo he uses, it’s a gift. “We know, we know.”

“You guys just, you make me so happy!” Chowder tears up, and he pulls them into another hug. 

“Chowder!” Dex calls over. “Dude, we need you to come settle an argument. C’mere.”

“Coming! Hey, I’ll catch up with you guys later!” Chowder grins. The pair offer him a fist, and he happily returns the gesture, a soft “‘swawesome” escaping as he does. He turns and runs off, rejoining Nursey and Dex, who are still debating the meaning behind the piece from before.

“It looks like boobs.” Wicky offers once Chowder is out of earshot.

“It looks like a face to me. Big, wide empty eyes. Like that one guy who sits behind us in Economics.”

“Oh shit, it DOES look like Stevens. That guys a moron, still don’t get how he got into that class.” Wicky laughs.

“Bruh, he’s a SENIOR, it’s not that he got in the class, it’s that he can’t get OUT!” 

“God, though, if wanting to get out of that class isn’t a mood!” 

The pair have migrated to the edge of the gallery now, and have claimed a bench under a large print of tastefully framed six-pack abs. Someone on the team, probably. Wicky can recall asking Lardo for volunteers, but can’t remember who took her up on the offer to model. 

The din of the gallery fades as Ollie looks over to Wicky, and the other man offers him a smile. They’re close, closer than they thought either would be comfortable with with this many people around. They lean in closer still, barely a centimeter apart.

And they kiss.

It’s soft, shy, unexpected. They’ve been together over a year, they’ve been out together in public, but this is the first time they’ve been together and so lax about their team seeing them. 

Ollie can almost swear he hears Chowder go “Awww” from a few feet away.

The team had just finished a game against Yale, and they won 4-2. Naturally, celebration was in store, and they were hitting up their usual place off campus. It was a beautiful spring evening, warmer than average, and the breeze, soft, whispered through the trees. 

Ollie and Wicky hung toward the back of the crowd as they exited the restaurant later in the evening. They were holding hands, Wicky’s head on Ollie’s shoulder as they walked.

It was, all in all, a nice evening.

Until a voice calls out from the darkness. Ollie refuses to repeat the words it spouts out. Clearly, the person it belongs to is not a fan of he and Wicky openingly displaying affection.

The stranger barges over, mouth still running. He reaches out, grabbing Ollie’s shoulder.

“Whoa, don’t fuckin’ touch me.” Ollie’s head snaps to his side, gaze wild at the man.

“Oh, thought you’d be a fan of that you f-”

The man does not get to finish the sentence. Ollie drops Wicky’s hand and delivers it, now shaped into a fist, into the man’s stomach.

“Cheap shot.” He hears the man stutter, cracking his neck. “You think you’re tough?” 

The man backs up, takes a swing at Ollie, who dodges. Wicky reaches out, grabs the man’s wrist and pulls him close. Ollie takes the opportunity to headbutt the man in the stomach. The stranger lets out a pained noise. He draws his leg back to attempt a kick at Ollie, but something grabs him behind and pulls him to the ground.

“Enough.” Jack glares down at the man, “The hell do you think you’re doing?”

“You a homo too? Like your friends?” The man spits, and Wicky has to physically hold Ollie back to keep him from going for the man’s throat.

“I won’t stand for anyone going after my team. We already called the cops, be grateful they’re on their way, can’t guarantee what a team of supportive hockey players would do to you otherwise.”

“Fuck y-” Ollie has broken out of Wicky’s grasp and punches the guy in the side of the jaw. The stranger lets out another noise as he falls back on the sidewalk. He lies there, pathetic, bruise already forming on his face.

Jack pulls Ollie and Wicky aside as the rest of the team catches back up, surrounding the man lying on the ground groaning. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah, I, fuck.” Ollie squeezes his hands into fists, relaxing when Wicky wraps an arm around him.

“Did he hurt you, O’Meara?”

“Nah, Cap, ‘m fine. Just, how could he come up to us and just start running his mouth like that?”

“Entitled piece of shit.” Wicky mutters, turning to watch Dex push the guy back to the ground as he grows ballsy enough to try fighting back again.

“Wicks, you okay?”

“Yeah, he didn’t touch me. Guy was a pushover.” Wicky spits. “Babe, you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m FINE.” Ollie states, harsher than he meant it to come out. He immediately shrinks into Wicky’s grasp. “‘M fine…”

“You want to stay and talk to the cops? We might be able to try and press charges since-”

“Jack, I appreciate it, but I’d kinda just like to go back to my dorm.” Ollie looks away from Jack.

“Ollie, if you need to talk, just-”

“Jack.” Ollie insists. He lowers his eyebrows, chest puffed. “Just let it be.”

Jack sighs, clearly not looking to start a fight. His face softens. “You guys go on ahead with the team, I’ll stay here with Dex and Nursey and keep tabs on this shithead till the cops show up. He reeks like beer, so they should take him in for something. Shitty would know better what that is, though…”

“Thank you, Jack.” Wicky offers a smile, glancing from Jack back to Ollie. “Babe, let’s go.”

Wicky pats Ollie’s arm, and they’re joined by Chowder, Shitty and the rest of the team. Chowder wraps an arm around Ollie’s other shoulder, offering a reassuring smile.

“You kicked his ass!” Chowder’s eyes flash. “He deserved it, too. People can be so nasty.”

“At least we have you, Chowder, the sunshine of the team.” Ollie teases, offering a weak smile as Chowder looks away, cheeks red. 

“Babe.” Wicky says softly, eyes closed. He’s curled up on Ollie’s chest, both lying under a tree in a small area just off campus, not quite a park but certainly not just an empty field. They had just gotten back from playoffs, from, well, it’d been a while since either of them heard much from the team.

“I’ll shave when I get to it.” Ollie yawns, scratching his chin. Playoff beard was still very much in effect, and Ollie would be lying if he said he was in a rush to do much of anything. The hockey season may have ended, but finals were about to kick into full swing. Even right now, Ollie had a math final to study for, and Wicky had at least two final papers he should be working on.

“No, not that. You ever what goes on in other people’s heads?”

“Bro, what?” Ollie snorts, eyebrow raising even with his eyes shut. “I’m too sleepy to get philosophical with you right now.”

“No, like,” Wicky sighs, trying to file his thoughts in the correct order, “That was Jack’s last game...the one we just lost. You never go into a game knowing it’ll be your last. That must’ve fucked him up.”

“Dude, Zimmermann is going pro! He’s got so many more games to look forward to.”

“Mmm, I guess.” Wicky shifts, inching so his face is closer to Ollie’s. “You even wonder what it’s like for the other guys?”

“I-not really? I barely get my own thoughts, dude.” 

Wicky scoffs, cracking an eye open to look at Ollie. “You really are hopeless sometimes, huh?”  
Ollie sticks his tongue out at Wicky. “Sometimes, but that’s life, right? Plus, I’ve got you to figure things out with.”

Wicky leans in and kisses Ollie. “You’re stuck with me, dude. We might as well have the notary draft up a marriage certificate.”

They share a laugh. The breeze blows. It’s silent for a few minutes.

“You ever wonder what we’ll do after graduation?” Ollie breaks the silence.

“I wouldn’t mind traveling a little. What do you say?”

“Travel together?” 

“No, I thought we’d both travel alone at the same time.” Wicky teases. Ollie pulls him closer.

“I’d do anything with you, Pace, you know that.”

“I love you too, Ollie.” Wicky says softly, kissing Ollie again.

Bitty decides a group photo was just what the team needed to commemorate Jack and Shitty’s graduation day. The graduation ceremony itself has just about wrapped up, and Bitty is on a mission before people start to disperse. He’s snagged the first parent he can find, shoves a camera in their hand and shouts orders for the team to gather together. It’s oddly forceful, and the sheer surprise of Bitty telling them to do something takes the group by surprise, and they obey without question. 

Finally, after who knows how many pictures, they’re allowed to disperse. The day is unseasonably warm, and Ollie and Wicky have plans to go swim at the pond, with packing for the summer to take place over the course of the evening and most of tomorrow.

“O’Meara, Wicks.” Jack calls out before they get a chance to disappear. “Glad you guys stuck around!” 

“Oh, hey Cap!” Ollie says as they turn to face Jack. “Couldn’t NOT see you and Shitty off, y’know?”

“Well, you two have been known to keep to yourselves.” Jack smirks. 

“Forgive us, oh Captain.” Wicky fires back.

“I’ll consider the request. In the meantime, it’s good to see you guys involved. You mean a lot to the team and we want you to feel comfortable.”

“God, that is SUCH a hockey answer.” Ollie laughs. “You’re gonna NAIL the NHL.”

Jack rubs the back of his head, offering the sincerest smile Ollie and Wicky have ever seen on his face. “Well, I’m hoping I’ll see you guys in the stand. If I don’t see the two of you fist bump when I score at least ONCE every season, I’ll consider it a serious injustice.”

“You wanna hook us up with tickets, Mr. NHL Big Bucks?” Ollie crosses his arms. He flinches when Wicky elbows him.

“Of course.” Jack answers, completely serious. “You guys have been part of the team the last two years, I wouldn’t exclude you two.”

“You-you’re serious?”  
“When am I not serious?” Jack jokes, and Ollie makes a defeated noise.

“Damn, Zims, you’re good.” Wicky chuckles. “We’d be honored to accept whatever you send our way.” 

“I’ll see you with the rest of the team at the Falcs opener in the fall, then?”

“You couldn’t keep up away.” Wicky nods.

“Seriously, we’ll find a way in regardless. Wicky got banned from the movie theater where we group up and STILL managed to go with me every Friday for a year before he moved away.”

“AH, that’s-that’s a story for another day. Jack, thank you, for everything.” 

Jack nods, smiles, and then, in unprecedented events, shows the human emotions of caring and friendship by pulling Ollie and Wicky into a hug. 

“Aw Jack, this is...weird, but sweet.” Wicky laughs.

“We appreciate the attempt, though.” Ollie adds. They return the gesture just long enough for it to feel complete, but not too long as to make it even more uncomfortable for Jack.

“Looks out for each other, okay? And look after Bittle, I know you guys are close to him.”

“We’ve got Bitty’s back.” Ollie puts a hand to his chest. “You take care, don’t be a stranger around here.”

Jack nods again, brushes at his eye like he’s been...crying? He pats the pair on the shoulder. “Take care you two, until next time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another year down, and we're just about halfway through the story. Still a lot more in store!


	6. Year 3 - Fall Semester

“Look at this crowd! There’s so many people here, dude!” Ollie looks around, raising his voice to speak to Wicky over the dinn of the crowd.

“Never been to a professional sports game before?” Wicky looks over, amused.”

“Bro, we’re from a small New England town, what do I know about crowds like this?”

“Take it in, then!” Wicky grins. “Jack gave the team some great seats!” 

Ollie has to admit, it’s a LOT to take in. This place is nothing like a college hockey game. Okay, there’s hockey, and fans, but it’s just, and INCREDIBLY different vibe from what he’s used to. Also, he’s used to being ON the ice, not in the stands, so it’s a bit like an out of body experience. 

Jack hits the ice and every member of the Samwell team, past and present, goes nuts. Ollie swears at one point he sees Ransom climb on Holster’s shoulders to wave a Falconers’ banner.

It’s even crazier halfway through first period when Jack scores a goal. 

Ollie and Wicky came prepared. They both climb ONTO their seats and hold up a massive picture of them fist bumping with the words ‘GO JACK’ pasted on the top and bottom like an old school internet meme. They use their free hands to fist bump UNDER the picture of them fist bumping, shout “GO ZIMMERMANN” in unison, and they can SWEAR Jack looks directly into the stands at them and nearly trips over his own feet when he sees their sign.

Shitty takes one look at the pair, up and the sign, and practically howls with laughter. “Brah, you two are ICONIC.”

College means credits, and needing credits means taking classes. Sometimes, if you’re an overworked hockey player, you take a painting class as an elective, because drawing pictures is fun and relaxing.

Wrong.

Ollie’s hands are covered in paint, Wicky has some in his hair, and they’re both tilting their canvases like they’re trying to interpret an ink-blot test.

“Babe, does this look like a winter landscape?” Ollie sticks his tongue out, flipping his work upside down. “Or does it need more...winter?”

“It looks like you spilled white out on it, Ollie.” 

“Oh...Shit. What’s yours supposed to be?”

“Fruit bowl.”

“Where’s the fruit?”

“It’s….right there?” Wicky frowns, squinting at his own piece. “Like, that’s what the red and orange and purple are.”

“Oh. Dude, did you use your fingers to paint those?”

“I-no? M-maybe.” Wicky pouts. “I don’t know how to paint a fucking fruit, dude.”

“It’s a circle?” 

“Bananas are NOT circle-shaped.”

“Wait, Pace, that yellow thing is supposed to be a banana?”

Wicky looks over at Ollie, incredulous. “Yes?”

“It looks like Spongebob.”

Wicky huffs, dropping his canvas onto the grass. He leans back against the trunk of the tree that he and Ollie are sitting under. 

“Hey, Pace, I have an idea. Swap pictures with me.”

“What, why?”

“Cause, I have an idea.”

Wicky raises an eyebrow, but does as instructed. He looks at Ollie’s painting now in his hands. Studies the placement of the trees, the snow, the little cabin. He lets out a hum and grabs for a brush.

“Yeah?” Ollie smirks. “Got something?”

Wicky makes a shushing noise as he starts to paint, suddenly feeling like the spirit of Michelangelo has possessed him and is using his body as a vessel of artistic expression.

Ollie chuckles, assessing the fruity mess that his boyfriend put on the canvas in his hands. He lets out a ‘huh’, snatching the idea that pops into his head and rolling with it.  
Shortly after, covered in a bit more paint, they both drop their brushes and look over at each other.

“Show them on three?”

“Yes, One.”

“Two.”

“Three.” They speak and present their work simultaneously. 

They’re both...surprised. Genuinely surprised, but in the best way they could imagine being surprised. Like ACTUALLY getting what you want on Christmas morning.

“Dude.”

“Bro!”

“Ollie, dude!”

“Wicky, that looks legit! Looks like Bob Ross did that!”

“Bro, yours looks like REAL fruit.”

The pair uses their free hands to fist bump, both grinning. 

“We should...both sign both of them?” Wicky’s grin fades to a soft smile.

“Yes! We did both work on both of them!”

Ollie sticks his thumb into red paint, presses it in the corner of piece pieces, before scratching out a little ‘8’ in the center. Wicky quirks an eyebrow, grin intensifying again. He does the same as Ollie, except he scratches a ‘9’ into his thumbprint.

“Now the entire class will be confused as to why, and how, an eight and nine year old painted these for us.” Ollie jokes. Wicky snorts, grabbing Ollie’s face, smearing red down his cheek and pulling him into a kiss.

A crack of thunder rattles the walls of the Haus.

“Dude, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a storm this bad since I started here.” Holster enters the living room, bowl of popcorn in hand.

“Can’t believe our dorm fucking LOST POWER.” Ollie tosses a pillow off the couch so he and Wicky can scoot over to let Holster sit down. 

“Thanks for letting us crash here tonight, Co-Cap.” Wicky nods at Holster. “That dorm’s creepy as is, never mind without power.”

“It’s weird that this place di-” Ransom has appeared behind Holster, interrupting him by clapping a hand over the other man’s mouth.

“Do NOT jinx us like that, Holtzy.” Ransom practically hisses. “I love you but I WILL hurt you.”

“Bro, relax, it’s all good ever since Dex installed that generator for us.” Holster grins. Ransom grimaces, knocking on his head a couple times to be safe.

“This place has a generator?” Wicky looks at Holster, eyebrow raised. He can tell Ollie has done the same, even without looking to check.

“Chyeah, Dex wouldn’t let us NOT put one in, said this place was so old and thrown together an extra big cloud could knock out the power.”

Ransom has pulled the popcorn bowl from Holster’s hands, deposited himself in the other man’s lap, and is shoving popcorn into his mouth. “Comes in great for kegsters, though. Epikegster last year we ran the sound system AND a smoke machine.”

“Smoke machine?” Ollie thinks out loud. “Fuckin’ smoke machine?”

“Yeah, dude, you’d know that if you guys came to any of the kegsters.”

“Too much weed smoke, fucks with my asthma.” Wicky waves a hand dismissively.

“Wicks, bro, asthma?”

“I keep an extra inhaler in the locker room, in the kitchen here and always have one with me when we go on roadies. Have you...never seen me use it?”

“‘S that what that red thing is I see you huff sometimes?” Holster tilts his head.

“Holster, you’re an idiot.” Ransom shakes his head.

“But like, a really handsome idiot, right?” Holster smirks. 

The lights flicker as a particularly nasty clap of thunder echoes. Holster yelps, hiding his face against Ransom’s shoulder, nearly knocking the bowl of popcorn onto the ground. Ollie and Wicky look at each other, eyes communicating an understanding of the situation that they don’t need words for.

“Hols, this beer tastes like shit, by the way.” Ollie grimaces mid sip. “No offense, but like, shit dude.”

“It’s all they had and I can’t have a booze free frat house, it’s unheard of.”

“Well, there was that one UConn sorority that we went to after a game that was trying a no-alcohol thing.” Ransom gestures a finger at Holster matter of factly. “It was the worst sorority party we ever went to.”

“I bet they said the same thing about the pair of hockey bros they brought back with them.” Wicky teases. Ollie lets out a gross laugh, nearly snorting beer up his nose. The pair fist bump and Wicky grins.

“Well, I’d say it sounds like they invited you two, but you wouldn’t have actually showed up.” Ransom fires back. 

Wicky raises an eyebrow. “Was that supposed to be a burn? Easy Bake Ovens get hotter than that.”

Ransom frowns when he hears Holster let out an ‘oof’. “Dude, you’re supposed to be on MY side.”

“Sorry, Rans, it was pretty weak-sauce.”

Ransom grumbles, stuffing more popcorn into his mouth.

“So why is Julie Andrews here, again?” Wicky gestures back at the TV, trying to reign in the conversation.

“Wicks, dude, you’ve never seen Princess Diaries?” Holster gives Wicky a look like he’s sprouted a second head.

“No? Why, should I have?”

“Pace, even I’VE seen them.” Ollie bumps into Wicky’s shoulder to get his attention. 

“Them? There’s more than one diary? What does she fill multiple diaries with?”

“Dude, it’s RIGHT there. She’s TELLING US!” Holster throws a hand in the TV’s direction angrily. 

“But like, MORE THAN ONE MOVIE?” 

“Wicky, ba-bro...It is a bit of an iconic movie.” Ollie gives Wicky a look.

“No, now, see, Mean Girls, that is an iconic movie.” Wicky crosses his arms. 

“I won’t dispute that, but Anne Hathaway AND Julie Andrews? Legendary.” Ollie shakes his head.

“Over Mean Girls?”

“Listen, Lindsay Lohan will NEVER be on Julie Andrews level.”

“I’m with Ollie.” Holster nods. “This movie is gold.”

“Wicks has got a point, though, Holtz. Mean Girls has its own holiday.” 

“Rans, Princess Diaries doesn’t NEED it’s own holiday. It’s legacy can’t be contained by mere humans in a single 24 hour period.”

A hockey puck flies into the room and lands in Ransom’s popcorn bowl. The group of men look over at the stairwell where an angry Lardo is standing.

“First of all, this is Grease erasure, and you ALL know it. Second of all, if you don’t keep it down the storm won’t be the scariest thing you fuckers deal with tonight.”

“Wh-why? What are you gonna do to us?” Holster practically whimpers.

“I’m not gonna do shit. But, if you’re too loud you’ll wake the ghosts.” Lardo smirks.

“Ghosts?” Ollie and Wicky say in unison.

“Oh, hey you guys, didn’t see you there, thought it was just these chucklefucks causing trouble again.”

“Hang on, tell us about the ghosts.” Ollie waves a hand at Lardo to get her attention.

“Oh, nothing to tell really. Haus is haunted.”

“Sh-shut up, Lardo, the Haus is not haunted.” 

“Okay, but I warned you, Holster.” Lardo winks. “Seriously, though, keep the noise down.”

Lardo is gone as quickly as she appears.

“Dude, how did she-”

Wicky nudges into Holster’s shoulder and he lets out the most unflattering shriek Wicky has ever heard. Holster grabs onto Ransom, and they, and the popcorn, practically fly off the couch and across the room.

“Something touched me!” Holster whines. 

“Holster, my ears, dude.” 

“S-sorry, Rans.” Holster puts Ransom down.

“Dude, that was mean.” Ollie whispers to Wicky as Ransom and Holster bicker about ‘Dude, I told you about picking me up unannounced’ and ‘Sorry bro, but I KNOW something touched me’. Ollie chuckles, and he and Wicky fist bump again. 

Losing is bad, losing an away game is much worse.

Nothing like a long drive at night with nothing to do but think about how badly you just got your ass handed to you.

The bus is dark, mostly silent save for soft snoring, and sniffling from one heartbroken goalie.

Ollie is staring out the window, eyes half closed with Wicky leaning against his shoulder. He has homework he desperately needs to work on, but he can’t bring himself to do anything.

“H-hey.” 

Ollie shakes his head, blinking his eyes a few times. He looks over, Chowder is nervously tapping his fingers, avoiding eye contact. “Chow? You’re still awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Chowder sounds sad. “Keep thinking about-”

Chowder flops himself onto Ollie and Wicky, lying across them. Wicky snorts, jolts awake and looks around like he’s knocked out of his seat. 

“Easy, Chow.” Ollie frowns. Chowder shifts so that he’s sitting against the window of the bus, legs still spread out across his friends’ laps. 

“Man, what gives?” Wicky rubs his eyes, groggy. 

“S-sorry, just, normally I’d talk to Bitty on the way home from a game when I’m upset, but he was asleep and I didn’t want to wake him so I figured I’d check on you guys and-”

“Chowder, breathe.” 

Chowder nods, taking a deep breath. “Sorry, I feel really bad about the loss tonight. I think it was my fault.”

“No way, dude, we all make some garbage plays tonight.” 

“But I was wide open for the shot that broke the tie in the third.”

“Only because our team’s defense was nowhere to be seen.” Wicky yawns. “Face it, the other team outplayed us.”

Chowder lets out a whine, his head thumping against the window glass. “We’ve been getting our asses handed to us this season.”

“It’s still early, though.” Ollie offers, patting Chowder’s shoulder. “We can make an AMAZING comeback.”

Chowder whimpers, looking over at Ollie, lower lip trembling. 

“N-no, Chow, don’t cry. You were GOOD out there!”

“So good!” Wicky adds. “We could have gotten beat so much worse than we did!”

“But we still lost.” Chowder says softly, closing his eyes and falling against Ollie’s chest. 

“Yeah. Sucks, bro.” Ollie ruffles Chowder’s hair, and the younger man lets out a whine. Wicky reaches over to pat Chowder’s shoulder.

“I feel bad for Rans and Holster.” Chowder adds, voice soft. “They had so much to live up to with Jack being captain last year.

Ollie and Wicky fall silent. Chowder’s got a true and incredibly painful point. Wicky leans over, he can barely make out Ransom slumped against Holster, the pair snoring in unison. He frowns.

“We’ll support them regardless. We’re a team, after all, no one person to blame.”

Chowder offers Wicky a sad smile. “I love you guys. I’m glad we’re friends.”

“Poindexter, you down here?”

Ollie leans through the doorway to the basement. A dull clanging answers his question. He cracks his back before heading down the stairs, trying his best not to creak on each one. 

“Ollie, for the last time, when I have a second I’ll get to your old MP3 player. I don’t know why you don’t just buy an iPhone like a normal person.”

Ollie scoffs, rolls his eyes. “Apple users. No, uh, dude you wanted me to come check out your latest project.”

“Oh!” Dex shoots up, banging his head against a pipe. “FUCK!”

“Ooh, you good, man?”

“Y-yeah.” Dex rubs the sore spot on his head. “Fuckin’ Gucci. I’m glad you came by! I tried telling Nursey about what I did but he gave me the same glazed over looks that I get when he tries to explain the meaning behind his newest poetry piece.”

“He’s still on his poetry kick?”

“Yes.” Dex has stood up now, brushing the dirt off his pants. “He keeps trying to take me to slam poetry night with him at this cafe downtown.”

“Ooooh, like a date?” Ollie’s eyes flash. 

“No, bro, not like a-” Dex stops mid-sentence. “O-oh my god, is he trying to ask me on a date?”

Ollie laughs as Dex, the redhead’s cheeks now burning. 

“Sh-shut up! You should see the way you and Wicks look at each other.”

“Dude, Wicky and I have been friends since we were kids and have been dating for years! NOT the same thing.”

Dex messes with his hat, mumbling under his breath as he heads over to the stairs. “You coming or not, dickhead?”

“Aw, I love you too Dex.” Ollie chuckles.

Ollie follows Dex up the stairs and out of the haus. Dex leads him across the lawn and over to the street, where a car is parked.

“Dude, you really DID snag one of these things?”

Dex beams proudly. “Bet your ass I did. 2003 SVT Focus in Competition Orange!” 

“And it’s CLEAN, too!”

“I had to stalk Craigslist for months, man.”

“So worth it. And Nursey wasn’t into this, like, at all?”

“Of fuckin’ course not.” Dex spits. “Cars are for point A to point B my ass.” 

“His loss, man. Well, don’t stand there with your hand in your pants, take me for a fuckin’ ride in it!”

Dex is already on the other side of the car, door open. “Get in loser, we’re going hooning!” 

20 minutes later, they’re on the highway. Ollie leans over to crank the radio up, letting out a laugh as Dex switches lanes to pass a Prius. 

Dex lets off the gas, dropping a gear and letting the revs climb as the car accelerates down the road.

“Dude! This thing’s quick for a decade old hatchback!” 

“It may not be completely stock.” Dex winks.

“Can I drive it?”

“You want me to let you drive my newest prized possession?”

“So that’s a no?”

“It’s a maybe, but you’re gonna owe me fuckin’ big time!” 

“Willy Boy, you got yourself a deal. I’ll even help you if you need advice to ask out Nurse.” 

Ollie laughs as Dex goes wide-eyed, cheeks red. 

“I’m glad y’all were free to join me for lunch!” 

Ollie looks up as Wicky swipes a french fry from his plate. Bitty had asked the pair to join him at a local diner a few blocks from the Haus, a relatively new place that the team has never tried. More importantly, he offered to pay for the pair to join him. No jock turns down a free meal.

“Well, you picked a Sunday, so it’s not like we had class.” Wicky says, mouth full.

“Dude, chew with your mouth closed.” Ollie nudges into Wicky with a laugh.

Bitty chuckles, as well, smile on his face. “I mean it, though, it’s nice to spend an afternoon out with friends!”

Ollie casts Wicky a quick glance before speaking, “Not that we aren’t grateful, but what’s on your mind, Bits?”

“Oh, uh,” Bitty rubs the back of his neck, “Am I that obvious?”

“We’ve known you for years, Bitty, you can’t hide from us that easily.”

“Plus,” Ollie adds, swatting Wicky’s hand away as he tries to swipe another fry, “We heard you rehearsing your notes for what you wanted to tell us.

“Y-y’all, I-” Bitty sighs, “Okay, no flash cards. Y’all are my friends, I can just talk to you.”

“Are you asking us or telling us, dude?”

“Little of both. Goodness, this is harder than, well, let’s just say this is pretty difficult.”

“Wait, harder than what?” Wicky looks at Bitty, confused.

“Dude, leave it. Bitty, come on, dude, tell us what’s up.”

“Promise you two will keep this a secret?”

“Of course, B, we know from experience how important privacy is.”

“Thank y’all, okay.” Bitty pauses, inhales. “I’m, uh, rehearsing this for the others, actually. I trust you two and I’ve desperately needed to tell SOMEONE about this. It’s, uh, Jack and I-”

“Zimmermann isn’t giving you trouble, is he?”

“What? No, he’s-he’s wonderful. He’s sweet, and funny and, gosh, just SO attractive. Oh, uh, y’all, Jack and I are dating!”

Bitty pauses, waits for Ollie and Wicky to react, waits to hear the shock in their voices.

“Bout time y’all got it together!” Wicky pounds a fist on the table. “We were starting to worry if it would even HAPPEN!”

“Yeah, whenever you two were together you could cut the tension with a knife!”

“Plus, last time he came to one of our games you guys fist bumped in the locker room after the game ended.”

“Fist bumping is kind of our thing?” Ollie takes a sip of his drink. “You think we didn’t know what it meant?”

Bitty chuckles nervously. “Y’all always do manage to take me by surprise. I’m sort of obvious, huh?”

“Little bit.” Ollie nods.

“But at least you know to be prepared for no reaction whatsoever from the others. You guys are about as subtle and me and Ollie have been.”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know about that one.” Bitty smirks. “Y’all are this close to being fined for just standing next to each other.”

Ollie and Wicky look at each other before sharing a laugh. 

“You’re gonna be fine, buddy. And we won’t say a word until after you’ve talked to everyone else.”

“Thanks, guys, glad I can count on y’all to watch my back.”

“We did tell Jack we would.” Ollie nods. “Class of 2017 standing together!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoooooa, we're halfway there! I just really love writing these guys being friends with and having meaningful interactions with the other members of the team.


	7. Year 3 - Spring Semester

“Ollie, Wicks, is that you, dudes? Come sit with us, we’re in the kitchen.” Holster calls to the pair as they enter the Haus.

Ollie gives Wicky a look, and Wicky nods. They head inside to see Ransom and Holster sitting at the kitchen table, each with a hot chocolate in hand.

“Hey guys!” Ransom offers a wave, “Bitty made hot chocolate a few minutes ago before he had to leave for a lecture, it should still be hot!”

“And we brought out the Baileys, cause this IS still a frat house.” Holster laughs. 

Ollie rolls his eyes. Wicky sits at the table as Ollie pours two mugs of hot chocolate. Ollie brings them over, places one in front of Wicky before taking a seat at the table.

“Baileys, bros?” Holster grins, offering the bottle.

“I prefer not to drink before noon.” Wicky shakes his head.

“Fuck it, pour up!” Ollie shrugs. Ransom and Holster cheer, pouring a healthy amount into Ollie’s mug.

Ollie takes a sip, smacking his lips. “Hm. Not bad, actually.”

“Ollie’s day-drinking habits aside, what’s up?” Wicky looks between Ransom and Holster.

“Well, this is our last semester.” Holster starts.

“So bittersweet, bros, to think this is the end.” 

“Do not shed a tear, sweet Ransom, for the end is not here yet.”

“Are you guys gonna….go somewhere with this?” Wicky raises an eyebrow as Ollie slurps his drink, half judging the other pair.

“Oh, right. We want you bros to have our dibs!”

“Wait, really?” Ollie nearly chokes on hot chocolate. “Like no shit?”

“Yeah, dude.” Ransom nods. “From two best bros to two others, who better to pass the attic onto?”

“Yeah, ‘best bros’.” Holster wiggles an eyebrow. 

“We haven’t been hiding anything.” Wicky rolls his eyes. “We literally went to Winter Screw once and were each other’s dates.”

“Yeah, we noticed.”

“You DID tell us you just couldn’t get dates.” Holster makes a face. “Besides, you didn’t, like, come to us to talk like Bitty did, so we figured we’d just let it happen?”

“Even if it means we missed out on dishing out SO MANY fines.” Ransom’s face turns solemn, if for but a minute.

“Anyway, no, bros, the attic is yours next year.”

“Bros, you’re gonna be seniors next year!” Holster slams his hands on the table.

“But we gotta shake on it!” Ransom stands as well.

Ollie and Wicky lock eyes and smile, rise, reach across the table and grab Ransom and Holster’s hands. They shake, and use their free hands.

“‘Swawesome!”

The four sit back down, and Ollie takes another sip of his drink. “Y’know what, maybe a little more booze to celebrate!”

“Yeah, brooooo.” Holster pours for a good few seconds, Ollie’s cup is essentially full again at this point. 

“Pace, you in?”

Wicky looks at the puppy dog eyes Ollie gives him across the table and sighs. “Fine, but you’re a terrible influence.”

Ransom and Holster whoop as Holster pours booze into Wicky’s drink.

“Cheers, bros!” Holster raises his glass. The other three follow suit, clinking their mugs together and taking a long drink.

“Fuck yeah!”

“Oh my god, there’s a celebrity in the Haus!”

Ollie pokes his head up from his spot on the couch as Ransom lets out an actual fucking squeal. He looks in the direction of the source, and, sure as shit, there is the Falconers own Alexei ‘Tater’ Mashkov standing in the doorway of the Haus, phone in his hand and smile plastered on his face.

“Whoa, real frat house!” 

“Holster, HOLSTER, get my phone! Tater Mashkov is in MY HAUS!”

Ollie rolls his eyes, and returns his attention to his phone. He sends a quick text to Wicky letting him know to get to the Haus pronto before locking his phone and stuffing it in his pocket.

“Place is pretty impressive!” Tater pokes his head into the living room. “I am take commemorative picture!” 

Tater takes a look around. He sees Ollie sitting on the couch and offers a hand.

“Oh, shit, you’re like...a professional NHL player.” Ollie blinks at Tater a few times before accepting the man’s hand.

“Yes, I am!” Tater nods as he shakes Ollie’s hand. “Is nice to meet you!”

“Likewise. I’m Ollie. I’m, uh, on the team, obviously.”

“And I’m Wicky!” Wicky slips through the doorway, almost as if appearing on cue, before flopping onto the couch opposite Ollie. “And you’re Alexei Mashkov.”

“Oh, please, call me Tater. Is what everyone call me!” Tater continues to grin, flopping onto the couch in between Ollie and Wicky. “You play with Zimmboni, yes?”

“Yup, we were on the team with him before he graduated.” Wicky nods.

“Is great fun! I have seen some matches, I watch with Zimmboni when we have free time. You two seem familiar.”

“Number 8, and Wicky’s 9.”

“Oh yes! I recognize numbers. You do have good coordination on ice, must be very close!”

Ollie looks away, slightest blush forming. “You could say that, yeah.”

“Close like Zimmboni and B, yes?” Tater gives the pair a coy look.

“Shit, Ollie, he can read us like a book.” Wicky laughs.

“Is all good! You two help them change sports world for better, then! Make it a safe place for everyone!”

“That’s such a pure way to look at things, are you sure you’re a hockey player?” Ollie raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, I get that sometimes. I try to be positive, you know. Makes for much more enjoyable time.”

“Wow, Pace, he sounds just like-”

“T-Tater Mashkov?!” Chowder gasps from the bottom of the staircase. “Sitting on the gross living room couch?!!”

“Hello! You must be Chowder! Zimmboni warn me you are very, what he say, oh-excitable!”

Chowder’s eyes sparkle as he darts over to the couch. “Oh my god, Tater-c-can I call you Tater?”

“Of course!”

“Tater! This is so weird, but, can I give you a hug?”

Tater laughs, but spreads his arms out wide and Chowder leaps into them.

Ollie and Wicky chuckle, taking this as their cue to slip out of the living room. 

“So Tater’s pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah man.” Ollie nods. “It’s crazy that we just hung out with a real NHL player.”

“Hey Wicks, O’Meara.” Jack nods at them as they enter the kitchen. “Guess I don’t count?”

“Jack Zimmermann you magnificent bastard, how are ya!” Ollie reaches out to shake Jack’s hand, with Wicky following in suit. “I believe I speak for all three gay men in this room when I say you ass looks fantastic on TV.”

Jack chuckles, “Did Shitty put you up to that?”

“He mighta sent me 20 bucks to slip that in the next time I saw you.” Ollie rubs under his nose. “Figured it might cheer you up since you were gonna miss him today.”

Jack chuckles again, smile softening. “What a guy, huh. Oh, shit, sorry to run but I promised Tater I’d give him a full Samwell tour. Bitty, you good in here?”

“Yes, Honey, I’d love to join you, but I’m a little busy.”

“Yeah.” Ollie smirks, looking around the kitchen at the mason jars on top of, literally, and that word IS overused a smidge, covering every available flat surface of the kitchen, “You could say Bitty’s schedule is JAM packed.”

Wicky snorts, and the pair fist bump, Jack puts a hand to his face and Bitty nearly drops the jar he’s filling.

“Are-are you proud of that?” Bitty looks mortified.

“Fairly, yeah.” Wicky smirks. 

“Wicks, Ollie, you two stayin’ for Keagster?” Holster pops his head into the kitchen. “C’mon, you guys CAN’T miss another party.”

Wicky looks over at Ollie, and Ollie shrugs. “Guess we can come. It doesn’t start ‘til later, right?”

Holster nods. “Gotta drag Ransom away from his celebrity crush to help me set up. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, don’t die.”

“Love your hair, hope you win!” Ollie adds for good measure.

“I can’t believe you brought us to Murder Stop & Shop.” Wicky grips the handle of the shopping cart, exasperated. 

“Babe, Racist Stop & Shop smells weird. Besides, this is the one Bitty always goes to, he says they have better fresh produce.”

“Why can’t we just go to Big Y instead?”

“Because, Pace, the closest Big Y is half an hour away, AND they don’t have the brand of sugar Bitty likes. He’s the one who gave us the money and sent us to the store.”

“Well, let’s just make it quick. This place skeeves me out.”

Bitty has given them ONE job, get the stuff on the list and get out. No detours, no unnecessary purchases, and do not forget a single thing, every ingredient is crucial.

But then, Ollie and Wicky never WERE the best at following directions.

“Babe, do you think Bitty would appreciate us buying him something nice, as a treat?”

“Wicky, it’s not a thoughtful gesture if we use the money he gave us to pay for it.”

“But what if it’s something he keeps saying he needs, like a new whisk or set of knives?”

“Kitchen utensils are NOT a thoughtful gift!”

“But Bitty cried last year when we got him that stand mixer for Haus Secret Non-denominational Holiday. Actual tears, Ollie!”

“He’d been beating eggs with a rubber spatula for MONTHS, of course he cried! I’d cry, too!”

“Oh!” Wicky bolts away from Ollie and the carriage. “What about THIS?” 

Ollie squints, not so much to help him see what Wicky is gesturing to, but more out of sheer frustration and judgment that his boyfriend just CANNOT listen. 

“You want us to buy him a giant stuffed bunny?”

“Yeah! He’s got that little stuffed brown one in his room, maybe it needs a friend!”

“Pacer, I am not buying Bitty a giant stuffed bunny leftover from Easter.”

“But Ollie.” Wicky pouts, grabbing the stuffed bunny’s arms and waving them around. “Think of how sad and lonely he is, left in the store all by himself!”

Ollie hesitates for a moment, but shakes his head. “N-no, stop trying to make me sympathize with the stuffed animal.”

“Dude, you’re being a dick. What if we left you abandoned in a Stop & Shop?”

“Well, if it was this particular Stop & Shop I’d probably just get murdered.” Ollie shrugs.

“Ollie.” Wicky huffs, lifting the bunny off its shelf and bringing it over to the cart.

“Wicky, dude!”

“I’m not leaving him here.”

Ollie sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. “We’re not buying him for Bitty, are we?”

“Not anymore. I’ve grown attached.”

“You are simultaneously incredibly frustrating and the cutest goddamn man I have ever seen.”

“Love you too! What should we call him?”

“You want me to name the rabbit?”

“Well, YEAH. Dude, we grew up together, I know you had stuffed animals as a kid. Don’t neglect our son, Ollie.”

“I thought Chowder was our son?” 

“W-we can have more than one son, Ollie.”

“You have been hanging around Ransom and Holster WAY too much.”

Wicky chuckles, leaning in to kiss Ollie on the cheek. “You love me.”

“I do, it’s the only reason we’re still having this conversation. We’re not using Bitty’s money to buy you a giant stuffed bunny, though.”

“Wh-dude, duh, I know that! I’m buying him myself.”

Stanley Cup Winners!

The Falconers just won the Stanley Cup.

Jack’s apartment is packed, the booze is flowing and someone hijacked his stereo to play...well, it’s not quite music, but it is certainly music adjacent. 

“You ever wonder what we did to get wrapped up in this shit?” Wicky shouts over the music.

“Uh, joined the Samwell hockey team, befriended Bitty, supported him when he started dating Jack-”

“Ollie, that was a rhetorical question.” Wicky laughs, shoving his boyfriend. 

“C’mere, you.” Ollie pulls Wicky closer. The pair kiss, doing their best to stifle back laughs as they do. Ollie stumbles and they nearly fall over, which just makes them laugh harder.

“Bruhs, that’s SO a fine.” Holster laughs from across the room. 

“Jack already said he’d cover us tonight.” Wicky sticks his tongue out. “Kiss my ass.”

“My dear Holster, that was a BURN.” Ransom’s turn to laugh.

“I don’t know if I just got burned or served, but damn.” Holster blinks, smug expression wiped off his face.

“Boys, no fighting tonight.” Jack says as he slides through the crowd and in the direction of the crowd. “We’re here to celebrate.”

“Ollie! Wicky!” Chowder interrupts whatever conversation was just happening, squeezing between the pair. The way he sways in place means he’s already drunk. Ollie makes a note, he’s either an incredible lightweight, or homeboy works fast.

“Nursey and Dex won’t dance with me! You guys, dance with me!” 

Yup, Chowder’s drunk.

Chowder slumps over Wicky, giggling. Wicky looks at Ollie, who shrugs. 

“Dance, man, don’t leave Chow hanging.”

“Oh no, you’re not getting out of this.” Wicky reaches out to grab Ollie’s shoulder and pull him over. Chowder grins, slinging an arm around Ollie and resting his chin in between Ollie and Wicky’s heads.

“You guys are my new best friends.” Chowder slurs. “You LOVE ME enough to dance.” He emphasizes a few words, looking over at Dex and Nursey. 

Ollie glances over. Nursey is talking at Dex, looks like he’s a little tipsy and has started to ramble. Dex has his arms crossed, pretending he isn’t interested but doing a terrible job. Dex notices Ollie looking over, locks eyes with him. Ollie smirks, Dex blushes and looks away, flustered. Ollie laughs as Nursey leans against Dex a bit, and the redhead nearly jumps out of his skin, face turning red.

“They’re in looooove.” Chowder says when he notices Ollie watching his other friends. 

“They’ll figure it out.” Wicky offers. “Shit seems to work out that way.”

“Ooh, if they start dating me ‘n Farmer can go on double dates with ‘em.” Chowder grins. “Y-you guys come too, triple date!”

“Chowder, you’re know we’re always down.”

“To motherfuckin’ clown?” Shitty shouts from across the room, as if he’d been part of the conversation this whole time. “Fuck yeah!”

The next morning comes slowly. Ollie groans rolling onto his side and nearly having a heart attack when he sees Chowder sleeping next to him.

“Don’t worry.” Wicky says softly from the doorway with a laugh. “I freaked out, too.”

Ollie sits up, rubs his eyes. Wicky offers him a cup of coffee, which he eagerly accepts.

“Jack let us crash in this spare room, and Chowder refused to sleep anywhere else than with his “new best friends”, at least, that’s what Jack said when I went out there to get coffee.”

“God, for a minute I thought we-nevermind.” Ollie shakes his head. 

“Threeway with Chowder?”

“Fuck, did we?” Ollie looks down. He’s still fully dressed, save his shoes. Even his hat, a bit askew from its usual backwards position, sat on his head.

“Nah, his head hit the pillow and he was out.” Wicky laughs. “We’re good.”

“Damn, I was almost about to cross ‘threeway’ off my bucket list.”

“We’re still young, babe, plenty of time for that.”

“That was a joke.”

“Yes, mine was a joke too.” 

“Ugh, you guys are so loud.” Chowder groans, now awake, hungover and groggy. “I’m GLAD I didn’t have a threesome with you.”

Ollie nearly spits out his coffee as Wicky doubles over laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is purely a sweet and fluffy chapter, cause even I need to take a break from sprinkling angst in. Hope y'all are still enjoying it!


	8. Year 3 Bonus - Summer Camping Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's got something special in it, hahaha.

“Ollie, babe, you said it was just going to be us spending a couple weeks at your uncle’s cabin.” Wicky crosses his arms, clearly agitated. 

“Yes.” Ollie nods.

“What the fuck are they doing here, then?” Wicky’s voice raises as he gestures at the handful of his teammates standing a few feet away.

“Wicks, dude, we are standing RIGHT here.” Dex gestures at Wicky, not quite a wave, but definitely with a slight flourish of middle finger.

“Don’t test me, Poindexter.” 

“Well,” Ollie starts, tapping his fingers together innocently, “Chowder asked if he, Dex and Nursey could tag along, and they ARE our friends, and then I felt bad...so I said yes.”

“Okay. Tnen what they fuck are THEY doing here?” Wicky gestures to Tango and Whiskey, who are standing next to Dex.

“Oh, uh, shit, I think they just invited themselves. What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh, uh.” Tango rubs his arm awkwardly. “Nursey told us you guys were doing this trip and said we should come?”

“Nurse!” Wicky snaps his head to look over at his teammate.

“Chill, man, didn’t think it’d be a big issue.”

“Nursey, dude, it is kinda fucked up you invited extra people.” Dex shakes his head. 

“Dex, bro, whose side are you on?” Nursey mocks hurt.

“There are no sides!” Ollie yells, getting everyone’s attention. “Pace, it’s fine, Nursey, it’s fine. This place is big enough for the whole group of us as long as we double up rooms, uh, triple up in the Frogs’ case.”

“Yes! Sleepover!” Chowder pumps a fist in the air. 

“Three people means we get the biggest room, then?”

“No, Derek.” Ollie shakes a finger at Nursey. “My uncle’s cabin means Wicky and I get the biggest room.”

“Makes sense.” Whiskey nods, reminding everyone that he’s present. He’s got his arms crossed, and Ollie isn’t sure if he’s unimpressed, or if he even actually WANTS to be here.

“You guys can fight amongst yourselves for the other two rooms. Or,” Ollie smirks at Dex, “You guys could always flip a coin.”

“Nope! Nope nope shut up, Nursey, Chowder, let’s go RIGHT now.” Dex grabs his suitcase and pushes past Ollie, fellow Frogs in tow. 

“We’re just gonna let them...go?” Tango looks at Whiskey. 

“Yeah, let them take whatever room they want, I’m sure the other one is fine.”

“Gee, thanks for having so much confidence and respect for my family’s property.” Ollie rolls his eyes. “Come inside, at least, it’s hot as FUCK out here.”

Ollie is eternally grateful his uncle built this place next to a lake. Swimming in a lake just hits better than swimming in a pool, and there’s so much less salt and sand than swimming at a beach.

Night swimming makes it even nicer.

There’s just enough light from the cabin, the campfire burning, and the lights spotting the dock into the lake. The air is cool now that the sun has set.

Chowder lets out a cheer as he cannonballs off the dock and into the lake with a splash. He surfaces, shaking his head and sending water out around him.

“Easy, Chow, you’re splashing.”

“Whiskey.” Chowder frowns. “You’re sitting on a dock in the middle of a lake, you’re gonna get splashed. Just come in and have fun!”

“Ehh, pass.” 

Chowder sticks his tongue out at Whiskey, diving underwater and splashing Whiskey again.

Whiskey groans, pulling off his shirt and wringing the water out of it. He nearly falls off the dock when Wicky sits down next to him and pats him on the shoulder.

“Easy, dude.” Wicky holds his hands up. “Just sitting down to chat.”

Whiskey sighs. “Not sure why I agreed to come on this stupid trip.”

“So why are you here?”

“I don’t know. Tango asked me to tag along, said it’d be fun to spend time with the team.”

“Not having fun?”

“I-I don’t need to tell you anything.” 

“Whisk, dude, I’m just trying to talk. We’re teammates.” 

Whiskey runs a hand through his damp hair. “Feelings are complicated.”

Wicky laughs. He looks out into the lake where Ollie and Chowder are taking turns splashing water at Dex, while Nursey floats on his back nearby. Tango isn’t fair from them, also on his back, feet kicking absently. “Damn, if that isn’t true, bro. But they can be so worth it.”

“How long have you two been together?”

“Friends? Since we were kids. Dating, since early freshman year.”

“Hmm. You seem close.”

“Very. Friends to lovers, you know? Like those old fanfiction tropes.”

“You read fanfiction?” Whiskey chuckles. “Didn’t think hockey players were into that shit.”

“Hey, you know enough about it to call me out, you’re just incriminating yourself too, now.”

Whiskey opens his mouth to protest, instead opting to shove Wicky. Wicky slips, grabs onto Whiskey’s leg and pulls them both into the lake.

“Dude, the fuck?”

“Hey man, you pushed me first!”

Wicky waits, expects Whiskey to shout, but Whiskey lets out a laugh, the most genuine Wicky thinks he’s ever heard the other man muster. 

“Hey! You guys having fun over there?” Ollie calls over with a wave.

“Whiskey in the lake, what crimes will he commit?!” Chowder joins in with a laugh.

“Dex, man, you’ve really been paying attention to Bitty’s baking, huh?” 

Dex looks over from the oven in the cabin’s kitchen. Ollie sits on the counter, smiling at him as Dex sets his pie on the counter.

“Yeah, I, uh, actually kinda got into it.”

“Smells good, dude. A hockey playing car guy who can bake, what a man.”

“Better not let Wicks hear you talk like that, dude, might get jealous.” Dex grins. 

“I wouldn’t dream of getting in between you and Mr. Nurse, Will.”

“Ollie, Nursey and I aren’t-”

“Dex, we’re friends, why are you still arguing with me about this?” 

Dex tosses the potholder onto the counter, stuttering. “Look, I don’t-”

“Dex, take it from someone with some experience on the matter. I know you guys are both stubborn and can butt heads, but maybe just try talking to him?”

“What do I even say?”

“You just tell him you’re into him and see what he says?”

“Hmm, seems like a terrible idea.”

“Want me to talk to him for you, see what he thinks?”

“You really think he’d tell you anything?”

“We….could ask Chowder?”

Dex taps his chin. “We could. I always spill my guts to Chowder whenever he asks, he’s just got something about him that I can’t NOT talk to him.”

“For what it’s worth, though, I saw you two hanging out at Jack’s place after the Falcs won the Stanley Cup, you two seemed very close.”

“Alcohol will do that to you.” Dex looks away, mouth curling into a frown.

“Don’t be too sure, Buddy, I’ve seen the way you guys look at each other.”

Ollie slides off the counter, reaches over and pats Dex on the shoulder. 

“Damn, what’s cooking in here?” Nursey calls out as he enters the kitchen.

“Nurse! When did you get here?”

“We’ve been here for like a week, Dex.”

“No, fucker, I meant when did you come inside? I thought you guys were trying to fish in the lake?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t getting any bites and we were getting hungry so we figured might as well come grab some lunch. Seriously, though, has Bitty been by?”

“Nah, man, Dex is a baking prodigy.” Ollie smiles.

“Dex, you’ve been baking? It smells good, dude.”

Dex rubs the back of his head, blush creeping across his cheeks. 

“Can we have some?” 

“Fresh out of the oven, let it cool a bit.” Dex slaps Nursey’s hand away from the pie. “Plus, you just said you haven’t had lunch yet. Eat that before dessert like a normal person.”

“Dex, there’s no such thing as normal.”

“Yeah.” Ollie laughs. “I’d say Nursey is pretty abnormal.”

Dex snorts, leaning against Nursey for support as he laughs. He wipes a tear from his eye, looking up at Nursey, who smiles at him. 

Dex smiles back, and it’s Nursey’s turn to turn red.

“Hey Dex.”

“H-hey, Nursey. Wanna help me make lunch?”

“Chill.”

“Should I give you two a minute?” Ollie jokes. The lack of response is a clear sign, and Ollie turns and bails before he becomes a third wheel.

Somehow, a few weeks have flown by like nothing. It’s the last night of the trip, and the group is gathered around the campfire they have set up for the night. Chowder lets out a yelp as his marshmallow bursts into flames, and he blows on it furiously.

“Still regret letting them tag along?” Ollie nudges Wicky.

“Nah. We’ve got some pretty kickass friends.” Wicky takes a swig from his drink. “A hell of a team, too.”

Tango and Whiskey split a chocolate bar. Tango fumbles, nearly dropping his half. Whiskey chuckles, taking a bite of the s’more in his hand. Nursey is humming along to the song playing on the radio. Dex is resting against Nursey, shaking his foot along to the tune, and Chowder is nodding his head as he stuffs marshmallows into his mouth. 

“Hey guys! A toast?” Ollie holds up the bottle in his hand. “To the Samwell Hockey Team!”

The group cheers, raising cans and bottles before taking a drink.

“And to Ollie’s uncle for building a kickass cabin in the woods!” Nursey adds. The group cheers again.

“Hey, Nurse, can you turn that music down? There’s something else I wanna say.” Ollie looks over to Nursey, who nods and leans over to lower the radio.

“I’m about to get seriously fined for this, but here it goes. Years ago, I met a little kid when I was in elementary school. He was my best friend, my ONLY friend. We were inseparable. We stayed friends even when we moved a thousand miles away from me. Coming to Samwell, I was able to meet back up with him. It made me realize how important he is to me.”

“Ollie…” Wicky looks over. His eyes sparkle from the way they reflect the light from the campfire.

“I love you, Pacer Wicks-” Ollie drops onto his knee in front of Wicky, and Chowder gasps audibly. Ollie pulls out a box from his pocket. “After we graduate, Pace, will you marry me?”

“Dude.” Tango nearly drops his s’more. 

“Ollie, I-”

Ollie falters for a moment at Wicky’s hesitation. 

“Ollie,” Wicky’s mouth curls into a smile. He reaches into his pocket and produces a similarly sized box. “You mind reading motherfucker!”

Ollie laughs, leaping at Wicky and pulling him into a kiss.

“Do we-should we fine them for this?” Tango scratches his head.

“Shhhh, not now.” Chowder swats at Tango, chewing the nails on his other hand. “Wicky, you gotta say yes!”

Wicky makes a noise, eyes going wide as he pulls back. “Shit, thank you Chowder! Yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you, will you marry me?”

“Wicky, of course I’ll marry you, I would literally DIE for you.”

“Dude, we can’t get married if you do that.” 

“Beautiful!” Chowder sobs. “My friends are getting married!”

Ollie laughs, pulling Wicky into another kiss.

“S-seriously, do we fine them, or-”

“Tango, for fuck’s sake, I’m gonna fine you if you don’t shut up.” Dex shakes his head.


	9. Year 4 - Fall Semester

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for homophobia toward the end. It's time for Senior year!

“You guys bought a goddamn chandelier?” Dex’s voice echoes through the attic.

A chandelier, sure as shit, sat in a sealed box on the queen sized bed positioned in the middle of the attic.

Ransom and Holster were sweet to give Ollie and Wicky dibs to the attic for their senior year, and as nice as it is to be living in the Haus, the place is, admittedly, a bit of a dump. They spent a good part of the summer planning, shopping, watching HGTV for ideas. Wicky even made a pinterest board for inspiration. A few tips to IKEA, Home Depot and the Goodwill down the street and they were mostly finished with decorating.

Mostly.

“Seemed like a nice touch.” Ollie smiles. Wicky leans over from the bookcase he’s building and they fist bump.

“You two can be so fucking extra, I swear to god.” Dex’s eyes practically roll out of his skull as he sits down on the bed. 

“William, can you install the damn thing or not?”

“Of course I can install it, Oliver, don’t insult me.” Dex pulls out a pocket knife and slices open the box. “You guys have a chair I can stand on?”

“Desk chair?”

“Yes, let me stand on a chair with wheels so it slides out from me and I slip and fall, crushed by the weight of homosexual incompetence. Great fuckin’ idea.” 

“Just stand on the bed and stop being a bitch, then, Mr. Homosexual Incompetence?” Ollie offers, eager to work in a chirp. 

“I’ll just-I’ll just grab a fuckin’ chair from the kitchen, I have to go turn off the power to do this shit, anyway.” Dex grumbles as he heads out of the attic.

“Did we really have to get him involved?” Wicky says once Dex has gone downstairs.

“Dex knows how to hook up a light, dude, besides, you trust the Haus? Do you trust the wiring and electronic shit in this Haus? I sure don’t, and I’m not keen on electrocution.”

“Damn, that’s what I was gonna get you for Christmas.” Wicky laughs. 

Ollie rolls his eyes, stretching to hang up the curtains they agreed on. “Besides, he owed me a favor and I cashed in on it for this.”

“Oh, remind me to ask later what you did for him.”

A few minutes of silent work goes by. Wicky hums as he continues the work on the bookshelf, and Ollie has taken to arranging shirts in the dresser opposite him.

“Okay, if you guys are making out when I walk up these stairs I’m throwing myself off the roof.” Dex calls up as he climbs the stairs.

“Oh no, there go our plans to ask you to join.” Ollie teases, and Wicky lets out a howl, nearly dropping the piece of shelf in his hand.

“You want this thing hooked up or not, asshole.” Dex positions the chair under the existing lamp. 

“Yes, please.” Ollie nods.

“Then cut the shit.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Poindexter, sir!” Wicky smirks, joining Ollie’s chirping.

Dex lets out a breath, rolling his eyes. “Why am I friends with you two?”

“Listen up, Eggs.”

Ollie and Wicky put on their best intimidating grimaces, flanking Bitty on either side. It’s initiation time for the newest players, The Waffles, as Bitty has affectionately started referring to them. And who better to be his “Enforcers” than the two men who were at his side when he went through his own hazing.

“I will explain the Samwell rookie blanket, ONCE.”

As if on cue, OIlie and Wicky toss the blankets they’d been holding at the Waffles.

“Thank you Ollie, Wicks, now-”

Ollie tilts his sunglasses down to peek over at Wicky. Damn, if the powerful and intimidating look isn’t good on him. Wicky catches him staring, lowers his sunglasses and winks.

Ollie smirks, mouths a few words at Wicky, and they both go back to glowering at the newbies.

Come to think of it, Ollie remembers he and Wicky having a conversation similar to this a few years ago, about Bitty coming into power and letting it go to his head. Ollie chuckles. Bitty is serving authority and the Waffles are gagging.

Okay, maybe he and Wicky need to lay off the RuPaul’s Drag Race marathons.

“So Dex, how are you and Nursey?”

Olle winces and Dex bangs his head on the hood of his car as he straightens up. 

It’s still early enough in the fall that working on your car on the street in Massachusetts isn’t unbearable. Dex finds the tinkering therapeutic, and Ollie loves to watch, despite not being that gifted with a wrench.

“Fuck, fine, we’re fine.” Dex’s voice sounds strained as he rubs the sore spot on his head. “Why do I always end up with a headache whenever you’re with me.”

“Picking up Nursey’s clumsiness, I guess. You don’t SOUND fine, though, trouble in paradise?”

Dex’s grip on the wrench in his hand tightens. “I like Nursey a lot, okay, but ever since he hurt himself it’s put a strain on things. He’s trying to boss me around all the time, he doesn’t clean up his shit and he can come across as...insensitive sometimes.”

“Have you tried talking to him?”

“No, I just threw things at him, dude, of COURSE I’ve tried talking to him.”

“Stubborn, huh?”

“Incredibly.”

“Sounds like a certain redheaded D Man I’m friends with.” Ollie chuckles. Dex glares at him. “Dex, your idea of communicating is yelling when things don’t go your way.”

“Well yeah, turns out I’m GOOD at yelling.”

“But yelling is a shit way to communicate with someone.”

“Not when Nursey won’t LISTEN to me try and talk to him like an adult.”

“Bro, relax.” Ollie holds up a hand. “This is what I mean.” 

Dex sighs. He rests the wrench on the top of the engine. “Nursey means a lot to me, but he can be so hard to talk to. I try to bring up issues with him and he dismisses it as me needing to ‘chill’. What kind of bullshit is that that I can’t talk to him about this shit.”

“Will, bro, listen to yourself right now, THIS is how you need to talk to Nursey.”

“I-I know.” Dex rubs the back of his neck. “I know I’m hot headed I just-I care a lot, I want to make it work but sometimes it feels like he doesn’t feel the same way back.”

“Dex, you’re a good friend, I love you, but listen to me, you NEED to fix shit with Nursey or Wicky and I are going to come down from the attic in the middle of the night and strangle you guys in your sleep.”

“We’re that bad?”

“Have you guys heard yourself argue? You two are one serious argument away from us moving back into our old dorm room.”

Dex’s shoulders slump. “Sorry, bro, I just. I’ll try to talk to him, okay?”

“Good. And if you drag Chowder into another argument it’s over for both of you.”

“So, my mom says hi, by the way, and she wants to know if you’re coming home with me for Christmas.” Wicky looks over from his laptop. He’s in the middle of editing a homework assignment. Ollie is sat on the bed, notebook and a few papers laid out around him. 

“Dude, I thought we were going to my dad’s for the holiday?”

“You want to stay in New England in the middle of winter?”

“Dude, you grew up here, how is this something that you even need to worry about?”

“Well yeah, but how nice would it be to go somewhere warm for Christmas. Have you ever hung up Christmas lights on a palm tree?”

“Ah, the great Christmas tradition of decorating a PALM tree. C’mon, dude.” Ollie shakes his head, scribbling something out in his notebook. “Anyway, it’s barely even November yet, don’t we have some time to figure this out?”

“I guess.” Wicky shrugs, returning to his assignment. “Besides, I need to know if Nana Carol is coming.”

“Oh no, Nana Carol is a big ‘No’ from me. She does NOT like me.” Ollie makes a face.

“Pretty sure she doesn’t like gay people in general, so don’t take it personally.” Wicky sighs.

“Fuck, that’s right. She’s one of the ones you couldn’t come out to in high school.”

“Yeah, but she’s ‘still family’ so we can’t just ‘leave her out’. Bleh.”

“Fuck that. She’s definitely not invited to the wedding.”

“Not that she’d come even if she WAS.”

“Well, we can still be petty and make sure she never interacts with us again. Anyway, we’re both out on Nana Carol, oh, and your cousin Barbara.”

“Ohhhhh, cousin Barb. I could probably do without her, too. Hmm, maybe you’re onto something going with your family.”

“See? I told ya! Besides, Christmas, snow, we can snuggle by the fireplace.” 

Wicky stops mid-sentence to look over at Ollie and smile. “Okay, you’re winning me over.”

Chowder flops onto his bed, phone in hand. “Thanks for helping me with this essay, Wicky! You’re one of the smartest guys I know, it means a lot!” 

“Of course. Dex stole Ollie to help him work on that car of his again, so I had the afternoon free, anyway.” Wicky has Chowder’s laptop in front of him. 

“Oh, yeah, haha, Dex loves his car almost as much as he loves Nursey.” Chowder smiles, kicking his feet absently like a teenage girl at a slumber party. “At least, most of the time, I think.”

“They still fighting?”

“Hmm, sometimes. They’re doing better now that they’ve started talking without shouting or sarcastic comments.” Chowder nods, before his voice goes singsong. “Aaaaaand, the other day they left their door to our shared bathroom open and I caught them cuddling.”

“Ooh, scandalous.” Wicky laughs.

“It’s cute, though. Dex is a little spoon, by the way. It’ll be funny to chirp him about that.”

“Chowder, you have a secret devious side and I LOVE that about you.” 

Chowder laughs, though if you asked Wicky it almost sounded a bit like a cackle. “It’s TRUE, though. I’m-I am happy for them, though.”

“Two sets of best friends dating each other, wild.” Wicky hums. 

“But it means I get to see you all happy!” Chowder sits so he’s sitting cross-legged on his bed. “And Farmer and I love all the double dates! She can’t get enough of you guys!”

“Aw, she’s sweet, tell her I think she’s wonderful next time you see her.”

Chowder laughs again, softer, more pure. A laugh that could stop even one of Dex and Nursey’s fights. “I’ll pass the message on, Wicky. So, uh, my essay?”

“Right, okay. It looks pretty good, I fixed a few grammar and spelling mistakes you missed, but I think you got your point across pretty well!” 

“Sweet! Think it’ll get me a passing grade?”

“I’m no professor, but I’d give it at least a B+?”

“Kickass, that’s good enough for me! The Professor is pretty lax, maybe he’ll be generous when he grades them.”

Wicky shuts Chowder’s laptop, stands and stretches. “Let’s go bother Ollie and Dex, see if they’re down for pizza tonight.”

“Pizza night!” Chowder cheers. 

“So, Jack’s going home with you for winter, right?” Ollie looks over at Bitty, who is busy humming as he scrubs dishes. 

“Yes! I’m-I’m excited but so nervous.”

“They seemed pretty cool about the ‘dating Jack’ thing last time they were both here, though.”

“Well, yeah, I suppose, but this feels so much different. I’m sure it’s just me being silly.”

“No, it’s a legitimate concern. We’re going to see my dad, Wicky’s close family is great, but not all of his relatives are, well, you know how it is.”

Bitty frowns. He dries his hands and comes to sit at the table opposite Ollie. “Unfortunately, I do. Sorry y’all are still having to deal with it.”

“Bright side, though, Wicky hasn’t seen our home town in a while, I can’t WAIT to have him to myself for a good week.”

“I still can’t believe y’all got engaged without me being there to witness it, OR bake a celebratory pie!”

Ollie chuckles. “That’s sweet, Bitty, but I had to take advantage of the right moment, y’know?”

“At least Chowder was there to take pictures.”

“Yeah, he probably would’ve recorded it for you, too, if he had advanced warning. Sadly, Chowder is bad at secrets, so I couldn’t let him in on the plan.”

“Completely understandable.”

“Anyway, yeah! Super excited to have some time off. We’ve been KILLING IT in the hockey department this year. You’re a hell of a captain, Bits!”

“Aw, shucks, you think so?” Bitty waves a hand at Ollie. “Just doin’ my best.”

“Dude, we’re going to the playoffs in the spring, your best is working!”

“Well, it’s only because y’all are such an incredible team. We’re gonna have to keep it up, though.” 

“Bitty, you’re starting to sound like a hockey player, Zimmermann is getting to you.”

“Oh!” Wicky’s head pops into the kitchen. “Are we praising Bitty’s abilities as a captain while simultaneously reading him for filth?”

“Babe, you’re just in time, that is exactly what we are doing!”

Bitty puts a hand to his chest, feigning insult. “Y’all, I NEVER. I trusted you. I thought we were CLOSE.”


	10. Year 4 - Spring Semester

“Hey, I just got a text from Jack.” Ollie grabs his phone from the bedside table.

“Why is Jack texting you at 9am?” Wicky frowns as Ollie moves, disturbing the stillness of the morning.

“I dunno.” Ollie scans the text. “He says under no circumstance are we to let Bitty put off his senior thesis. Oh, this might be related to the ‘Do NOT let this bad boy bake’ posters I saw Chow hanging around campus.”

“Just text him back telling him we’ve already been on Bitty’s case. Follow up with the fact that we have afternoon classes this semester and to NEVER interrupt our cuddle time. Add a few frowning emojis so he really gets the picture.”

Ollie laughs, tapping a quick message before setting his phone back down. Wicky hums, content, and curls up closer to Ollie, drawing shapes on his bare chest with his finger. 

“We should probably keep an eye on Bits, though.” Wicky says after a few minutes with a sigh. “Ever since Dex unhooked Betsy 2.0, Bitty’s going a little loopy. I saw him shopping on eBay for Easy Bake Ovens the other day instead of writing. He had three already added to his cart.”

“Dude, you think THAT’S bad, I saw him trying to bake cookies over a trash can fire the other night at a kegster. If we don’t do something soon he might never be the same.”

“Y’all?” Bitty’s voice calls up from the stairs to the attic, almost like he knew they were talking about him. “Do y’all have any matches I can borrow? I need to try something.”

“Eric Bittle! If you’re trying to screw around with fire to bake like a caveman instead of working on your thesis, I will have Jack on the phone so quick your head will spin!” Ollie shouts out in response.

“Oh no, not this again. Y’all are supposed to be my friends! Try and be supportive here!” 

Ollie and Wicky are out of bed and at the top of the stairs in an instant, looking down at Bitty with the judgment that only your gayest best friends can muster. Ollie waves his phone menacingly in Bitty’s direction. “I have Jack’s contact info pulled up right now, I won’t hesitate, Bits!”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Bitty hisses.

“Oops, I pressed ‘call’.” Ollie makes a face, and Wicky puts a hand to his mouth in fake surprise. Bitty goes pale. “It’s ringing.”

“O’Meara?” Jack’s voice comes out of the phone, which Ollie sets on speaker. “Wasn’t expecting a call, your text seemed like you had it under control. You good?”

“Hi Jack, we’re here with Bitty.”

“Eric.” Jack’s voice goes stern, you can practically hear his eyes narrow on the other end of the call. “Are they calling for the reason I think they’re calling?”

“N-no, Honey, we were just-”

“Eric Bittle, don’t you lie to me.”

“Yeah, Eric, don’t lie to him.” Wicky teases. 

“Eric, I’m hanging up right now and calling you back on your phone. You can’t keep avoiding working on your thesis.”

Bitty opens his mouth to protest, but Jack has already hung up. Bitty yelps when his phone rings, Halo by Beyonce, of course, one Ollie and Wicky helped Bitty pick out when he first told them he and Jack were dating.

“You two are traitors, I won’t forget this.” Bitty narrows his eyes at the pair as he turns and walks away. “H-hi, Honey, no, no I was just-”

“Should we have thrown him under the Zimmboni like that?” Ollie looks over to Wicky as Bitty’s voice fades into the distance.

Wicky laughs. “It’s for his own goo-did you just call Jack ‘Zimmboni’, like Tater does?”

“Yeah, cause it sounds like Zamboni, and I was making a ‘throw him under a bus’ joke. Haha, get it?”

“I got the joke, babe.” Wicky pats Ollie’s shoulder. “Not one of your best.”

“Man, fuck exams.” 

Chowder falls across Ollie and Wicky, who are sitting on the couch in the Haus living room. He looks up at Ollie, eyes half shut.

“That’s a whole ass mood, Chow.” Ollie laughs, ruffling Chowder’s hair. “If I have to write out one more equation I’m going to ram a pencil into my eyes.”

“I finally finished all the work required for my honors classes.” Wicky leans back to rest his head on the back of the couch. “I’m so tired.”

“It’s a long ass semester.”

“Yeah, buuuuuut, we’re doing so well in the playoffs!” Chowder kicks his feet excitedly. “We might actually win this year! We could be champions!”

“A win sounds pretty nice after how hard we’ve all worked this season.” Ollie nods thoughtfully. “It’d be a hell of a way for me, Wicky and Bitty to end our college hockey careers, too.”

“Oh, it’d be ‘swawesome!” Chowder grins. “We’re gonna kick some ass!”

As it turns out, ass is EXACTLY what they kick.

Bunching together on the ice for a photograph, Bitty clutching the championship trophy in the middle of the group, the energy is electric, it’s surreal.

“This is amazing.” 

Ollie looks over at Wicky, and the other man grins back, squeezing against Ollie so they can fit in the picture. Their cheeks press together, Wicky’s eyes light up, and he lets out a laugh.

“Amazing.” He repeats, though he’s not sure he’s still talking about the game win at this point.

The locker room is louder than it was out on the rink, the first time Samwell has won the championship in ages, and they’re all a part of it.

Chowder leaps up from behind, pulling Ollie and Wicky into a hug. “You guys!” 

“Chowder, you magnificent goalie bastard, that save at the end of third period was EVERYTHING!” Wicky grins, returning Chowder’s hug. 

“W-no, c’mon, if anything it’s YOU TWO who played a great game. I could barely keep my eyes on you two today. You were so in sync I thought you were the same person for a few plays.”

“Yeah, we’ve heard that one before.” Ollie chuckles. He stretches, pulling Chowder and Wicky closer.

“That was such a good game. I’m gonna miss you two so much.” Chowder starts to tear up, and he’s tightening his grip on the pair. 

“We’ll come visit, just for you, buddy.”

“Hey, fuck you O’Meara.” Dex leans over, pulling off Ollie’s hat to mess up his hair. He grins. “I didn’t want you to come visit me, anyway.”

“Aw, Dexy.” Ollie frowns. “You know I’ll come see you, too. Gotta bring a car that’ll embarrass you, after all.”

“Oh, fucker, you are so on!” 

Ollie laughs, grinning, and pulls Dex in to join their group hug.

“Hey, Babe.” Ollie smiles and Wicky climbs the stairs to the attic. “How was your last exam?”

“Not bad, your study session last night, it really helped.”

Ollie can’t help but smile, practically gliding across the room to pull Wicky into a kiss. Wicky chuckles, leaning in. He knocks Ollie’s hat onto the floor so he can run his fingers through the other man’s hair. 

“I thought I heard you two up h-oh!” Bitty interrupts himself, freezing halfway up the steps to the attic. Ollie and Wicky pull apart, just barely, and glance over at Bitty. “Am I interrupting?”

Ollie and Wicky both hold out an arm, and Bitty smiles, accepting the hug. 

“Good to see you, Captain B.” 

“Y’all, please. The season is over, I’m not the captain anymore. But it’s good to see you, too. I take it you’ve been busy with finals?”

Wicky lets out a breath. “Busy is a word for it, Bits. But I just got back from my last one!” 

The trio separate, Ollie takes Wicky’s hand and they sit on the bed, while Bitty plops himself into the desk chair and spins to face them. 

“Can’t believe it’s almost time for us to graduate.” Bitty thinks out loud. “What are you guys doing after we’re done?”

“Not sure, yet.” Ollie shrugs.

“Might be fun to take a vacation before we start doing adult shit.”

“Oh, if you go on vacation, you’ve GOT to let me know. I can’t let y’all travel without some snacks. And if you want to save a souvenir for little ol’ me, I might consider it an even trade.”

“Well, I’d invite you along, but-”

“Oh no,” Wicky shakes his head. “Bitty, I love you bro, but Ollie owes me a romantic vacation WITHOUT any teammate tagging along.”

“Seems like I missed an interesting time at the cabin last summer.” Bitty lets out a chuckle, leaning back in the chair. 

“Whiskey tried to drown me in the lake.” Wicky deadpans.

“He-what?”

“He pushed you and you fell in, Pace, don’t incriminate the dude.” 

Wicky’s smile turns mischievous. “Okay, maybe we were just screwing around. But he DID push me.” 

Bitty laughs again. “Hey, Class day is in a couple days, you guys ready?”

“We’ll be by your side on the ice, dude, one last time.”

“Oh, right, I made pie! I made it clear you two get first dibs, senior perk, we’ll call it.” Bitty winks. “I even have ice cream to go with it.”

“Bitty, did I ever tell you I love you?” Ollie smiles, and Wicky nods in agreement.

Standing on the ice the night before graduation is...surreal. So much blood, sweat and tears spent here, so much time, so much hard work put into the practices, all the games they’ve played. It’s hard to believe it’s time to move on.

Ollie adjusts his hat, making sure it’s snug to his head. 

“Ready, babe?” Wicky smiles over. 

Guess it’s not so bad, not when you have someone with you. 

“As I’ll ever be.”

Bitty kneels first, Ollie and Wicky following suit. 

Kissing the ice. The final rite of passage for graduating members of the Samwell Mens’ Hockey team. 

Ollie and Wicky kiss to ice together. Ollie reaches out, grabs Wicky’s hand. He gives it a squeeze, Wicky squeezes back. They don’t have to speak a word to know what’s on each other’s mind. 

They sit up, look over at each other, and smile. Wicky reaches out, pulls Ollie close, and pulls him into a kiss. Their lips are still cold, it sends a chill down Ollie’s spine, and he can swear he hears one of their teammates let out a cheer.

Bitty is still crouched, staring at the ice. Ollie watches a tear run down Bitty’s cheek.

“C’mon, let's give Bitty some space.” 

They both rise, hand in hand, and head to the side of the rink where their team is waiting. They stop, and Ollie wraps an arm around Wicky’s waist, pulling him close. Chowder reaches out, over the boards, pats Ollie on the shoulder. He smiles, Ollie can tell he might cry at any minute. Ollie reaches up with his free hand, uses it to pat Chowder’s hand.

Eventually they watch Bitty sit up. He rubs his eyes.. He looks over at them, and then the rest of the team, and smiles.

It’s crazy how one place, one team, can come to mean so much.

“Hey, Pace, you awake?”

Wicky, exhales softly, rolling so he’s facing Ollie. It’s early in the morning, the night after Class Day, the night before Graduation. 

“Mmm, I wasn’t.” Wicky said, eyes still shut. He presses his face into Ollie’s chest. “And you shouldn’t be, either. Long day tomorrow.” 

“I know, but I can’t sleep.”

“Nervous?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Yeah, a little bit.” Wicky nods into Ollie’s chest. “We graduate in the morning, dude.”

“We do. Shit, it does feel like four years went by pretty quick, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, about a dozen chapters, give or take.”

“What?”

“Oh, uh, Johnson sent me a text last night, said something about the one of the last of a dozen or so chapters of our story coming to an end. I think it was his way of congratulating us on graduating?” 

Wicky chuckles. “He was a weird fuckin’ dude, huh?”

“Ha, yeah.” Ollie goes quiet. “Pace, thank you for everything these last four years. You mean the world to me.”

“Ollie, we were always in this together. And-” Wicky pauses, reaching to take Ollie’s hand. He traces the ring on Ollie’s finger. “We’ll keep doing things together. I love you more than anything.”

Ollie smiles, kisses Wicky’s forehead. “I love you too, Wicky. Now let’s try and sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day.”


	11. Year 4 - Graduation

“You guys look good!” 

Bitty, Ollie and Wicky are in the living room of the Haus. They’re dressed like you’d expect for graduation, which is only an hour or so away at this point. Chowder barrels down the stairs, flings himself at each of them. 

“Wearing the hockey helmets instead of graduation caps, nice touch.” Nursey leans against the doorway to the kitchen.

“My idea!” Chowder waves his hand, excited. 

“I was a bit skeptical.” Bitty makes a face. “But you know, it’s got a charm to it.”

“Hey, I wanna make sure I get a good seat.” Lardo appears in the doorway to the kitchen, standing next to Nursey. She’s got a slice of pie on a plate in her hand. “We should go soon!” 

“We need to go, regardless, we’re supposed to get there early.” Wicky points out. 

“Wicky’s right, Bitty, you good to go?”

Bitty has note cards in his hand, he’s scanning them over. “Huh? Oh, yeah!”

“Nervous about having to give a speech?” Ollie puts a hand on Bitty’s shoulder. Bitty flinches, taken by surprise. “Easy, big guy.”

“Guess you could say I’ve got some pre-speech jitters.” Bitty nods.

“Give me the note cards.” Lardo snatches the note cards from Bitty, who frowns in protest. “Guys, get him out of here. We’ll see you in a little while!” 

Ollie and Wicky nod at Lardo, each patting Bitty on the shoulder. He nods, turning, and they head toward the door.

“Shit, wait, Pace.” 

Ollie grabs Wicky by the shoulder, and the other man turns to face him. “You almost forgot your honors sash thing.”

“Good save, Ollie.” Wicky smiles and Ollie leans in to place the fabric around Wicky’s neck. 

“Hey Pace. Honors looks good on you.” Ollie smiles, leaning in closer.

“Uh, are we going now?” Bitty interrupts. He’s got his arms crossed, a smirk on his face. “Or do you guys need me to come back for you in a few minutes?”

“Wicky.” 

It’s a few minutes before the graduating class has to line up to begin the ceremony. Alphabetical order. Their last moments as college students.

“Hey Babe. It-”

Ollie pulls Wicky toward him, hugs him tight. Wicky leans in, rests his head on Ollie’s shoulder.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just hard to believe this is happening, you know?” 

“Ollie, walk up the stage, grab the diploma, shake hands, smile, walk off stage.”

Ollie chuckles. “I’m not worried about messing up that part. Starting tomorrow we’re gonna be real adults, you know?”

Wicky takes Ollie’s hands. “Ollie, we’ve been over this. We’re in this together. Whatever happens after we graduate, we’ll handle it.”

“I love you, Pace.” 

“I love you, too, now kiss me before they start calling people to line up. I’m not waiting through the whole ceremony.”

Ollie laughs, pulls Wicky in and kisses him. 

Bitty’s speech is just the right amount of wholesome that Ransom and Holster are still in tears by the time Graduation has ended and the team has gathered itself back together. Ransom and Holster fling themselves onto Bitty, blubbering.

“That was beautiful, bro!”

“So touching, so moving!”

“Ransom, Holster, y’all are sweet, but you’re crying all over me.”

“But we’re so proud of yooooou.” Holster wails.

“Should we tell them that we just graduated, too?” Ollie nudges Wicky with his elbow.

“I’m sure they’ll figure it out. Our names ARE in the program, after all.”

“As if Rans and Holtzy read the program.” Ollie smirks, and Wicky laughs. 

“Ollie! Wicks!” Holster cries out, and he and Ransom make grabby hands at the pair. “We’re proud of you, toooo!”

Ollie and Wicky allow themselves to be pulled into the group hug, and Bitty whines as he is sandwiched between the two pairs.

“Y’all are gonna crush me like an over ripened pear!” 

Ransom and Holster back off, leaving the graduating trio standing together.

“Picture time!” Shitty and Jack have appeared now, and gestures to Jack, camera in hand. “It’s a tradition!” 

Jack smiles, points his camera at the trio. Ollie and Wicky flank Bitty on either side, fist bumping as Jack clicks the button to capture the picture. 

Ollie falls onto his and Wicky’s bed in the attic, lets out a yawn. It’s their last night in the Haus, the room’s filled with boxes, ready to be shipped between Ollie and Wicky’s houses.

Wicky inches closer, wrapping his arms around Ollie and resting his head on his chest. “Hey, Babe.”

“Hey Pace.”

“We really have to say goodbye tomorrow, huh?”

“Yeah, but it was nice to see everyone one last time.”

“No, I mean, WE have to say goodbye tomorrow.” Wicky’s tone is sad. Ollie frowns, wraps an arm around him.

“My dad said you could move in, at least for a while while we decide where to live.”

“Babe, I’d feel like I was imposing if I did that.”

“Wicky, you’re already practically family, there’s no way you’d be imposing. Please, don’t make me go home by myself tomorrow.”

“Bro, don’t make me feel bad right before bed.” Wicky pouts. “I’ll never be able to sleep.”

“Then you can sleep on the car ride back to my house.” 

“But your dad-” 

“Already said he’d love to have you move him. He talked about you for weeks after the last time you came to visit.”

“My parents are gonna be so upset that I’m not coming home for the summer.”

“Guess they’ll just have to come visit us. You still have other family up here, so they can kill a few birds with one stone.”

“I’ll have to go down there at some point to get some of my shit, anyway.” Wicky thinks out loud. “Guess I can plan that for the summer. We’ll go together and make a trip out of it.”

“Speaking of traveling, we’ve officially graduated. Traveling is one of the things we wanted to do once we graduated college, but there’s something bigger we gotta take care of, first.”

“Well, there’s a few things. We gotta figure out where we wanna live longterm, job hunting, remembering to have Bitty send over some recipes we can try to learn, since we have his baking anymore. Uh, what else...”

“Pace, we’re engaged.” Ollie says, matter of factly.

“Fuck yeah, we’re engaged. Engaged, young, in love, we’ve got so much to look forward to!.”

“Right, and that means, at some point soon, we’ve got a wedding to plan.”

“Oh fuck. Oh my god.” Wicky gasps. “Y-you’re right. We gotta talk about getting married, dude. We’re ENGAGED, dude!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's over. It's been a wild ride, and this fandom and this ship brought me out of not writing fic in over 5 years. Thank you to everyone in the OMGSP discord server for support, and for everyone who has read and commented.
> 
> And yes, the ending implies many possibilities ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Since Check Please ended and Ollie/Wicky was confirmed canon by Ngozi, I've very much fallen in love with them, as I tend to do with background characters. I wanted to give them the treatment they deserve.


End file.
